


One Fell Swoop

by InvisibleBookReader



Category: Banana Bus Squad, Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: BBS, Banana Bus Squad - Freeform, Blood, Bombs, Competition, Crossover, Death, Explosions, Fighting, Gore, H2OVanoss - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Minicat - Freeform, Nature, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Oral Sex, Quarter Quell, Sexual Assault, Spears, Suicide, accidental suicide, knife, outdoors
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-14 07:26:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 27,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13002807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InvisibleBookReader/pseuds/InvisibleBookReader
Summary: It is the 100th annual Hunger Games, and for this Quarter Quell only boys are entered into the reaping. Craig Thompson is petrified when he is reaped into the Hunger Games, especially since he will be competing against his long-term crush Tyler Wilde. Evan Fong is tied between winning the Games and winning the heart of his love, Jonathan Smith. Ryan Ohm just needs to be the victor.Not for the faint of heart. Major Character Death.





	1. Chapter One - Reaped

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick note on all the tributes before I begin so you can keep track of everyone :  
> District 1: Evan Fong and Jonathan Smith  
> District 2: Anthony Chilled and Steven Ze  
> District 3: Craig Thompson and Tyler Wilde  
> District 4: David Nogla and Ryan Ohm  
> District 5: Bryce McQuaid and John Kryoz  
> District 6: Ryan Smitty and Adam Nanners  
> District 7: Luke Patterson and Mark Johnson  
> District 8: Cody Racing and Max Gassy  
> District 9: Scotty Seven and Anthony Panda  
> District 10: Brian Hanby and Brock Snuckel  
> District 11: Marcel Work and Jay Blue  
> District 12: Lui Calibre and Arlan Droid
> 
> If you are unfamiliar with the Hunger Games universe, just a warning that this may not be for the faint of heart. Thanks, hope you enjoy.

“Welcome to the 100th annual reaping for the Hunger Games. Now, as we all know this isn’t just any old Hunger Games, this is a Quarter Quell, only male tributes will be selected. May the odds be ever in your favour." 

If Evan was from any other district, his heart would be in his feet and his blood would run cold. However, living in District 1 has it's perks. Training for the Hunger Games from a young age puts the district at a high chance for winning. Plus the overall wealth of the district, it is by far the best one to live in. Evan had no fear of being selected from the bowl, his only worry was that someone would volunteer in his place. 

Evan was a large man, he spent hours upon hours training for the games, which had lead to the muscle mass on his arms, torso, and legs. He often had attention from the local girls, but he never reciprocated that affection. He just didn’t see the appeal many of the other guys found in the girls.

Evan tended to stick to his best friend, Jonathan. Jonathan was several inches shorter than Evan, but was still very strong from his training. Jon was no where in sight at the morning’s reaping, he was blocked by other meatheads from the district. 

The woman in a frilly green dress approaches the bowl full of male names, and draws the first slip of paper. Her heels clack back over to the microphone as she unfolds the fateful paper.

“Noah Grayson,” the shrill voice announced. 

“I volunteer!” Evan shouted immediately afterwards. He stepped forward, waving his right arm in the air. He took steady steps towards the platform, Peacekeepers on either side of him. He mounted the platform and smiled at the cheering crowd. He waved out to everyone.

“And your name is?” Asked the announcer, tapping her foot.

“Evan Fong,” the Asian man answered, smiling widely. 

“Congratulations to our first volunteer in this annual Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favour, Evan,” the lady smiled again. She gestured to where Evan could stand, leading him away from the microphone. 

“And for our next tribute,” she continued, drawing another slip of paper.

Evan was not naive, he knew how easy it was to die in these games, and the mental effects it left on the victors, but he believed he could conquer. He was already forming a strategy, to team up with the other career districts and eliminate the rest of the competition.

He looked out over the crowd, some faces proud and others worried, petrified. They had no reason to be worried though, someone is bound to volunteer in their place in a district such as this one. 

When the lady read out the next slip of paper and no one volunteered, Evan’s heart finally dropped. That slip of paper resigned the fate of a certain boy with fluffy brown hair and piercing blue eyes. It condemned their friendship, their love. 

“Jonathan Smith.”

*** 

Craig Thompson could barely breathe. The air was smothering, sour, trying to keep him from functioning as a normal human being. However, this was different from the normal panic attack, Craig could be sent to die within the next five minutes. The crowds were closing in on him, squishing him up against an acquaintance, Tyler Wilde. Tall, handsome, and mysterious Tyler Wilde, keeping Craig smitten since his they first met at school.

Tyler towered over Craig, his muscular build blocking out the morning rays, keeping Craig from frying under the heat. Craig was not as muscular as Tyler, in fact he was sometimes called scrawny by his least favourite peers from school. Craig felt his arm brush deliciously against Tyler’s sun kissed skin.

Craig’s head whipped forward to face the stage instead of his crush. His hazel eyes landed on a man in a sharp suit with green, curled hair. The man unraveled a slip of paper from the bowl, the crinkling sounds echoed across the District 3 plaza. 

The man cleared his deep voice before reading the name off the paper, “Tyler Wilde.”

Next to Craig, Tyler sharply exhaled before making his way through the crowd to reach the stage. Tyler’s shoulders were still, but Craig knew he was trying to hide his panic. Craig was also trying to hide his own panic. Statistically, Tyler was not likely to return to District 3 victorious, and Craig would have to continue living his life without the angelic presence of Tyler. 

“Congratulations Tyler, may the odds be ever in your favour,” the man boomed, “now, let us find your partner.”

The man drew another fateful slip from the glass bowl. Before opening the paper he flicked the slip and blew on it. He uncurled the paper and read out the name on it.

“Craig Thompson.” Silence followed, except for Craig’s frantically beating heart. No, no that couldn’t be right. There must be a mistake. Against his will, Craig’s feet began to move forward. He felt like screaming and crying, but his mind was telling him to not show weakness. From now on, weakness is death.

Craig shuffled up to the stage and approached the announcer. The announcer grabbed Tyler and Craig’s hands, raised them, then bowed.

“Congratulations to this years tributes from District 3, and may the odds be ever in your favour,” the man finished with a flick of his green locks. 

The man escorted Craig and Tyler away from the cheering crowd, their happiness of not being reaped began to drown out Craig’s worried thoughts. Craig and Tyler were separated and put into different rooms to say their goodbyes to their family and friends. As Craig’s family filtered in and out of the room, he could barely keep his focus. 

Everything seemed blurry, like someone stuffed cotton buds into his ears. Craig’s family hugged him, leaving him feeling disorientated as he waited in the room for the peacekeepers to come and retrieve him. While Craig sat, tapping his foot, a sickening thought washed over him.

There were three outcomes: Craig would perish and Tyler would survive, Tyler would die and Craig would have to live his life without Tyler, or they would both die in these games. Each thought made Craig feel like breaking down and crying. 

***

Ryan glanced around the plaza full of possible tributes, those awaiting their fate or their glory. Many would not succeed, Ryan knew this, they had not put in enough effort as he did over the years of training. District 4 was not as likely to win as District 1 or 2, but it still stood a fair chance, especially now that Ryan was going to volunteer. He was going to win the games for his District, it had been a long time since they had done so.

The first slip was drawn, and announced. Ryan was on edge, ready to volunteer, to gamble his life in the Games.

“Andrew Robbin!”

“I volunteer!” Ryan’s mouth was open, but it was not his voice that escaped. Instead, it belonged to a man several metres over. 

Ryan observed this man as he walked to the platform. He was tall and thin, looked like he could be knocked over in a strong wind. He had a mop of black hair atop his angular head, framing green eyes and a sly smirk. Ryan could see how he may be popular with the ladies, but he will not be popular in the Games.

“What’s your name, son?” 

“David Nogla,” a heavily accented, deep voice boomed proudly. 

David was not a man Ryan recognised. He might have seen him vomiting once or twice at training from over exertion, but Ryan had never held a proper conversation with the gangly man. Quite frankly, he was glad he never had, he didn’t need a district partner like David dragging him down. 

Before he knew it, another slip had been drawn and was about to be announced. Ryan came back into focus, determined to be the first one to volunteer.

“Keith Hendringson.”

“I volunteer!” Ryan shouted. He took quick, heavy strides towards the stage, towards his glory. Towards his chance to reclaim his district and rise to fame. 

He will win. He knows it.

“And what’s your name, boy?”

“Ryan Ohm.”

“Well congratulations, Ryan Ohm and David Nogla. Congratulations on becoming this years tributes, and may the odds be ever in your favour,” the man ended the ceremony before making the newly appointed tributes bow to their district. 

Even though the Games begin in a week’s time, the fight begin now. Ryan needs to put as much effort as possible into making himself look good...and David look terrible. That wouldn’t be to hard to do, just look at the man! He could barely walk without tripping over his own two feet.

These were the types of traps Ryan had to look for. The underdogs, the ones that are putting on a facade to not attract attention. Even without having a conversation with him, David struck Ryan as the type of guy to be too unintelligent to have such a deceptive plan. Ryan had to watch his back, not get attached to the other tributes or his future allies (that shouldn’t be too difficult, he thought), and to be constantly vigilant.

Most importantly, Ryan knew to trust no one.


	2. Chapter Two - The Train

Although Anthony Chilled had just volunteered for the biggest competition of the nation, he was not met with happy looks. His mentor, a man with blonde stubble and harshly lined features, was glaring at him and his district partner, Steven Ze. His arms were crossed in fron of his chest, swaying back and forth with the movements of the train. 

“And why was it,” the mentor began coldly, “that you two decided to volunteer for the Hunger Games?”

Steven and Anthony looked at each other before facing the mentor again.

“Well, I think I’m fit enough to stand a fair chance and win. I’ve been training steadily for these Games, and I know I’m ready,” Steven answered proudly, Anthony nodded in agreement. The mentor sighed and cradled his head in his hands.

“First of all, look at yourselves. Neither of you have any muscle mass or agility to fight, or handsome faces to win over sponsors from desperate old women. It’s very harsh but it’s the truth. District 2 is not happy at this year’s tributes, they think you are scrawny, clumsy, and overall lazy. So instead of giving you a comforting pep talk about how you’ll smash the competition, I’m giving you a bit a tough love. You will not survive a day out there if you do not increase your fighting and survival skills within the next week,” the mentor finished with a sharp inhale, catching his breath after letting out all his anger at the new tributes. Steven and Anthony sat in stunned silence. 

‘Oh fuck,’ Anthony thought, ‘maybe I overestimated my abilities. He’s completely right, I haven’t been training enough to be in these games. What if I have just come here to die?’

“I don’t like your mindset, Mr...” Steven countered, trailing off when he realised he didn’t have the mentor’s name.

“My name is Jason Wick,” the man replied, scratching his stubble. 

“Mr Wick, have a bit more faith, and yes, I know,” Steven continued, holding out a finger to silence Jason, “faith doesn’t get you that far when you are dealing with life and death, but there’s no need to be so critical from the get go.” 

Anthony smiled at Steven, he barely knew the boy and he already had a tonne of respect for him. Anthony wouldn’t have been able to stand up to an authoritative figure like that. Jason just shook his head, stood up, and moved to another cart, leaving Anthony and Steven alone together. 

“Geez, the guy really knows how to ruin a mood,” Steven laughed, slinging an arm over the back of the fancy sofa. Anthony chuckled too.

“True, but he does have a point. We have to think about this logically. We might not be as strong as the other districts, so we should focus on building our survival skills to outlive the rest of the tributes,” Anthony explained, gesturing his hands for dramatic effect.

“Does that mean we can be an alliance?” Steven asked nervously, looking towards Anthony for approval.

“Hell yeah dude, we’ll be the best alliance the Games have got!”

***

Luke Patterson didn’t dare make a move. He sat with great posture, casually flexing his arms as their were by his sides. His mentor was investigating him and his district partner, Mark Johnson, testing them to see if they were worthy of her time. She finally took her glasses off and snapped them shut in a black case. Her face was like off milk, like she had eaten a lemon. All pulled back yet wrinkly at the same time. 

“Well boys, I’ve deducted that you stand a fair chance,” she said with a stiff upper lip. Luke visibly relaxed alongside Mark. Her eyebrows furrowed at the pair.

“However!” They snapped back up into their rigid posture. 

“That does not mean you get to slack off. Being from District 7 is almost as bad as being from District 12. We have had four victors. Ever. So to even be considered for sponsors, you need to always show your best. Stand up straight, keep your chin up, smile, be gracious yet tough. Even wear revealing clothing if you have to, both of you have enough muscle for it. But remember this, the hard work starts now,” she concluded. Luke and Mark nodded silently, not knowing what else to say. Her sour composure melted away once she realised she had them in her grasp.

“Now, my name is Tamara Seinn, but you already knew that. I think our next move is to observe the competition. Find allies, and try not to make too many enemies. Because you are from District 7, you can mostly fly under the radar if you keep to yourself,” Tamara said. She grabbed the remote for the TV and switched it on. The reaping for District 12 was closing, it looked like two small, hispanic boys had been reaped, so Luke didn’t think District 12 would be too much of a struggle to beat this year. 

All the tributes flashed on the screen, they were assorted into a line with their names next to them. Tamara paused the screen and inspected this year’s tributes.

“Okay...”she began slowly, “I think you should look out for District 1, Evan and Jon, District 3, Tyler, District 4, Ryan, District 9, Scotty, and District 10, Brian,” she concluded.

“What, what about District 2? They’re part of the careers,” Mark protested. Tamara just sighed.

“Look at them, they’re wimps. Be civil towards them, but I wouldn’t recommend rubbing knees with them. Say, even Marcel from District 11 looks pretty strong,” Tamara replied. She quizzically looked at Marcel before eying the tributes once more. 

“The ones to stay away from are District 3, Craig, District 5, John, and District 9, Cody. They have no chance I am telling you now. The poor boys all look like they’d be blown over if someone coughed on them,” Tamara suggested, laughing to herself. Luke had to agree, besides with Craig. While he was a small build, he looked like an intelligent man, he could be a good addition to the alliance if they needed a man who is good with his survival skills.

“So I expect you two to have each other’s backs before the Games start. There’s nothing I can do once you enter, but I would like you to stay close to each other. Simple?” Tamara asked, smiling passive-aggressively. Luke and Mark gulped and nodded. Luke was going to team up with Mark anyways, but Tamara was downright scary.

***

Tyler couldn’t help but worry, but not for his own sake. He knew he was large enough to survive through both attacks from other tributes and the elements, disease and weather. While Tyler was fairly prepared for the Games, he couldn’t help but worry for Craig. 

Craig sat a few metres away from Tyler in an antique chair, covered in silver cloth and bent with brass. He was shifting and swaying heavily from the movements and jerking turns of the train. Craig could barely keep himself grounded now, in a fairly steady train, so how could he guard his own back in the Games?

He needed help. Not a tutor or a psychologist, but someone there to keep him from harm. To act as a saviour. To protect him from any threats. Right then and there, Tyler decided to take Craig under his wing. Tyler couldn’t help but indulge in that daydream, being the provider for Craig while he manned the camp. 

A smash and a shriek woke Tyler from his daydream. 

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” Craig shouted, hands flying in front of his cute, pink mouth. Shards of glass spread out across the wooden floor, ice and water floating into every crack and crevice in the boards. The mentor struggled to get over to the mess quickly in her high heels.

“Not to worry dearie!” She and Craig kneeled down to brush up the glass. She laid some paper towel on the water to soak up the cold liquid. 

“I get that you have the jitters before the Games, that’s completely normal, you may lose your life after all,” she grinned sweetly. Craig blanched, and so did Tyler. Once she left the room to discard of the glass Tyler faced Craig. Craig ran a shaking hand through his short, auburn hair.

“Geez she could have put it a bit nicer,” Tyler chuckled, not letting his nerves show any longer. 

“Yeah, she doesn’t have much bedside manner, she’s a bit on the nose,” Craig answered, laughing too. 

“I think I remember you Craig, we have art together?” Tyler asked. Craig’s eyes lit up, sparks dancing in his hypnotising hazel eyes.

“Oh yeah, we do too, you always make such amazing charcoal pieces,” Craig replied, grinning at Tyler. Tyler smiled back, taken aback by Craig’s joy of speaking to Tyler despite the current life or death situation they are in.

“You know what Craig? I like the cut of your jib, let’s be allies. We can’t let anything come between us these Games,” Tyler offered. Craig smiled and nodded happily.

“Awesome! So who else should we team up with?” Craig asked.

“I don’t think we should make any decisions until we see the rest of the tributes. Who knows, we might make the perfect duo by ourselves,” Tyler answered, winking at Craig. Craig winked back, and Tyler couldn’t help but notice a strange feeling in his stomach. Similar to the feeling he experienced earlier when he was thinking about protecting Craig. It was a bit different though, a bit more emotional, sentimental.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed :)


	3. Chapter Three - Welcome To The Capitol

The train ground to a halt and Craig’s hyperventilation started up again. They have arrived in the Capitol. Tyler and Craig were escorted off the train by their mentor and two peacekeepers. Craig inhaled at the vibrancy that burst in front of his eyes.

Women with towering hats and long eyelashes painted black and white. Men in suits with strange swirling patterns and jarring colours. Dresses and skirts fluttering flashes of rich purples and greens and golds. Children chasing each other with silver-tinted plastic swords, swinging and stabbing at one another, feigning death. They were mocking him, Craig thought, they were mocking him and the tributes, making the games seem like innocent child’s play.

“Craig, keep up,” their mentor, Diana, said. She motioned her hand in a ‘come here’ fashion. Craig picked up his pace and soon he was falling in sync with Tyler. They were walking so close together that their arms were brushing each other, sending jolts on electricity through Craig. Craig swung his hand away from Tyler’s, instead grasping his opposite elbow. 

They weaved through crowds of unassuming people, people going about their daily lives with families and children, shopping or smoking as they stroll. Every so often, a couple or a group of friends would stop and point, excited to see the tributes from District 3. Why would they root for District 3? District 3 does not usually have a high chance of winning. Then Craig spotted two girls, one pointed at Tyler while fanning herself, thank god Tyler didn’t see them. Ah, they were attracted to Tyler, that’s why. Of course they wouldn’t be cheering for Craig, who cares about a stick of a man going into a death match?

“Craig, Tyler, stop here,” Diana commanded, stopping the pair in their tracks. They had reached a huge arena like building and they were at the gates leading into the backstage areas. 

“This is where you separate. As you know, tonight there will be a parade of tributes, and beforehand you two will be split to be groomed. Afterwards, you will reunite with matching costumes and enter the chariot which will take you around the arena. Everyone will be watching, make yourselves presentable, even hold hands, people from the Capitol love that kind of stuff,” Diana explained considerately. 

She entered the building with Tyler and Craig on her heels. They twisted and turned through hundreds of corridors before stopping right in front of a metal door with a sign above it reading “District 3”.

“This is your stop, once you enter there will be separate rooms with your names above the door, enter your room and be civil towards the groomers, they are just trying to do their job. I’ll see you two before the parade commences.” With a click of her heels, Diana turned and strutted away. 

Tyler and Craig looked at each other reassuringly before entering the room. They each made their way to their own doors, on opposite sides of the room and entered. Two men and a woman were in Craig’s room, all eying him like a fresh piece of meat. 

“Ah, I thought it was only male tributes this year,” one man remarked, smirking. The woman laughed.

“Come here, lad, we’ve got to make you look like a star in the next two hours before your designer, Florence, arrives,” the third man stated, gesturing for Craig to lie down on the metal table. Here goes nothing.

***

Brian couldn’t breathe. However, this was not from nerves or fright or anger at the Games, this was from awe. Awe at the Capitol and all it’s quirky citizens. Of course Brian loathed the actual people, they never protested the cruel Hunger Games, in fact, they encourage it with their bets and cheers. The people are rancid, vile, and morally corrupt.

However, Brian couldn’t keep himself from staring at every inch of them. The people wore bold, clashing colours that contrasted with their pale skin. Many had tattoos, piercings, facial surgeries, body enhancements, and Brian even spotted some more extreme examples where people had implanted objects into their skin to give it more texture. The children were running around, screaming and laughing, and their parents were sitting nearby not reprimanding them for their disruptive behaviour. If Brian had acted like that in District 10, he wouldn’t have lived to even be eligible for the Hunger Games. 

Many people swarmed around the District 10 tributes, looking at Brock’s buff frame and Brian’s good looks. Whispers, and some shouts, erupted across the crowd about how District 10 might stand a fair chance this year. District 10 is one of the poorest districts, so most of their tributes are emancipated. In a sick sense, the district got lucky this year that Brian and Brock were selected for the Games, hopefully the two wouldn’t be wiped out in the bloodbath. 

“Brian, are you ok?” Brock muttered out the side of his mouth. Brian came back into focus on his mentor and Brock, his closest friend.

“Yeah, I’m ok at the moment. I was just looking at the people...there’s so many of them,” Brian answered in awe, returning his gaze to the crowds of people. They were parting for the three from District 10 and the peacekeepers, almost like magic. 

“I’m just stunned at their clothes. Seriously, who thought that would be a good idea?” Brock muttered back, stifling his chuckles. Brian nodded in agreement. It would be a great privilege to have been born in the Capitol, living a life of luxury without the fear of dying in the Hunger Games. The thing that annoyed Brian most besides their ridiculous fashion is how they took everything for granted. The citizens of the Capitol were too dependent on materialistic things, their clothes and the way they look. They have no morals, and are a selfish population, more selfish than the select few people from District 10 who try to escape the district every year. 

“No clue, it’s like they aren’t aware of how awful they look,” Brian replied, openly laughing with Brock again. Brian met Brock’s soft, brown eyes, and smiled at the determination that was in them. What was he determined for? The Games...or something else? 

“Chin up Brian, I think we have a long week ahead of us, and we have to be as presentable as possible, but that’s not difficult for you to do,” Brock chirped, throwing in a wink. Brian tried to keep his jaw from dropping, Brock was never this...this flirty. It made Brian’s heart flutter with a strange feeling, one that he felt whenever he was alone with Brock. If it is what Brian thinks it is, what does that mean for the two of them? Especially when the fight of their life is just about to begin.

***

Brock couldn’t help but smile. No matter how hard he tried to wipe the grin off his face, every time he glanced at Brian his smile would come creeping back. Brock couldn’t help it that Brian was so irresistible. Even the members of the Capitol were gawking at Brian’s universally good looks. 

Brock walked in stunned silence as the gentle breeze blew Brian’s soft, golden brown locks out of his face. The noon rays shone down on Brian’s bright, icy blue eyes. His eyes darted in between the crowds taking in the strange mannerisms of the Capitol, not realising that they too were fawning over the fair haired man. His black shirt clung tightly to his frame, not as muscled as Brock’s, but more lean and enticing all the same.

Brock continued gazing at Brian’s beauty, stunned into a silence quite like how Brian was stunned by the Capitol. The two had been best friends their whole lives, but Brock has always harboured deeper feelings for Brian that Brock knew weren’t reciprocated. How could someone as angelic and perfect as Brian even glance at Brock in anything other than a platonic manner?

When Brock’s name was called from the reaping ball, his heart dropped. He had to say goodbye to his family and friends...and to Brian. Then Brian was called out too...and Brock’s world froze. One would live without the other, or both would die, and either outcome is petrifying. Brock couldn’t imagine a world without Brian.

Then and there Brock decided. Brian comes first. Brock will sacrifice himself by any means possible just to help Brian even by a sliver. It was Brian that deserved to win the Games, not the rest of the tributes, and certainly not Brock. 

“Brock, eyes forward,” their mentor, Samuel, instructed. Brock’s head snapped forward in obedience. Brock still continued to think about Brian. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to start flirting with Brian, he wasn’t going to make it out alive anyways so what did he have to lose? Besides, there was a tiny shred of hope on Brock that his feelings would be requited. 

That’s just fool’s talk.

“Brian,” Brock began, Brian looked back over to Brock, not having looked his way since they ended their conversation moments before. A tinge of pink was still present on Brian’s cheeks, maybe it was the heat getting to him?

“Yes?” He asked, a lilt was always present in his voice, his family all spoke with it too, almost like it was hereditary.

“We need to start thinking about our allies,” Brock murmured back, lips barely moving. 

“Shouldn’t we meet the other tributes first before deciding our allies?” Brian asked, cocking his head slightly to the left.

“No, silly, I meant us,” Brock replied shyly.

“Oh,” Brian trailed off.

“Well, would you consider being my ally Brian? I understand if you don’t want to be, though,” Brock asked, blushing a fair amount. Brian started laughing and Brock felt even worse.

“Of course I will, idiot,” Brian smiled. Brock immediately perked up. “Did you really think I wouldn’t want to work with you?”

“Well...” Brock began.

“Stop there, Brock. I love you, you’re my closest friend, I wouldn’t leave you.” Brian placed a reassuring hand on Brock’s shoulder. Those words resonated in Brock, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of the word ‘friend’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment, it’s extra motivation to publish the next chapter!


	4. Chapter Four - Parade

Jon was in heaven, that was the only explanation as to why Evan was dressed the way he was. He was dressed in a fiery red, form fitting jumpsuit, matching Jonathan’s own jumpsuit. Evan had sequins sprawling across his muscular shoulders and toned torso. He had little, clear gems glued down his temple and cheekbone, trying to imitate the shine of a jewel. Jonathan had similar gems but on the opposite side of his face. Evan’s jet black hair had been tinged with red and swept upwards out of his chocolate eyes.

Evan was staring back at Jonathan with a familiar ferocity that matched his outfit.

“If you look at the crowds like how you are looking at me right now, you’ll be a fan favourite in no time,” Jonathan smiled, his cheeks hurting from the closest shave he’s ever had. 

“So, we’re supposed to be rubies? How do you think it turned out?” Evan asked gesturing to his body and swaying his hips a bit. Jon tried to calm himself down as he nodded.

“It turned out stunning, the crowds won’t be able to look away from you,” their mentor, Blake, replied, slow clapping as he approached.

“Also, like Jon said, give the crowd a dashing smile and you’ll have them wrapped around your finger in no time at all,” Blake finished. Jon and Evan eyed each other once more, grinning as they did so. They approached their chariot and could hear the screams of the crowd from the stadium. The black horses were all getting restless, standing still but neighing and looking about. Blake escorted Evan and Jonathan over to the first chariot, swirling metal designs with a sleek, golden finish.

“Just remember boys, hold onto the chariot somewhere, and smile and wave. The closed off tributes are never crowd favourites. I’ll see you once the ceremony is over.” Blake strutted away as fast as he could with his fake leg. The rest of the tributes began to pour into the preparation room. Only a small outing was visible in the room, and that was the track to the arena, where the announcers will celebrate the different districts and read out the costumes they were wearing. Jonathan didn’t dare look back at the other tributes, he hadn’t seen them yet and he didn’t want to be intimidated just before making a true first impression to the Capitol.

“Hey Evan?” Jonathan asked, turning to face the taller man.

“Yeah Jon?” Evan replied, facing Jonathan too. Jonathan took a step backwards in the chariot as Evan took a step forwards. Jonathan’s hips met the wooden and metal sides, but Evan kept moving forward until he was planted firmly in between Jonathan’s legs. Evan tilted his head down so they were sharing the same air. Jonathan took a deep breath, not looking away.

“Good luck out there, don’t lose your cool. I’m right beside you,” Jon reassured. Evan faltered and stepped backwards. He regained his composure and smiled. 

“You too Jon, we should hold hands for the crowd,” Evan suggested. Before responding Jon grasped Evan’s large hand in his own, running his thumb over the other’s knuckles. Jonathan felt himself flush as Evan grinned. They faced the front as they felt the chariot begin to move slowly. Jon gulped. This is his moment.

***  
Bryce took a breath of fresh air once he reached the chariot room. Being examined and poked and prodded by three strangers for hours upon hours was not how Bryce planned his day would go. None of this is how Bryce planned his day to go. The stylists had said that Bryce was too pretty for a game this brutal, he would be better in the Capitol working as a model. They said it was a shame he was entering, because he was either going to die or come out mentally deranged. 

His district partner was skittish, Bryce didn’t want to stay around John for any longer than he had to. John looked like the type of guy to accidentally twitch over a trigger and kill his ally. Definitely not who Bryce wanted to team up with.

John was already waiting in the District 5 chariot, but other people were still loitering. Bryce took the opportunity to seek out other tributes strengths and weaknesses. He’s always been good at analysis, especially analysing certain traits and flaws, which will give Bryce a leg up for what he lacks in the physical department.

Bryce spotted the two tributes from District 7. Both were stocky and tall, one was caucasian and the other was a darker tone. They seemed to be quietly conversing with each other, not making too much of a ruckus and boasted about their abilities. Maybe Bryce should speak to them tomorrow in training, they would be a good combination of allies. Those two could be the brawn of the team while Bryce worked on strategy and acquiring necessities to live. 

All of a sudden Bryce felt this strange, niggling sensation tingle up his spine, like someone was...watching him. Bryce perked up and his head swivelled around the room before falling on the perpetrator. The man was dressed in flowing blue robes, embedded with shining pearls and netting, looking like Poseidon. He was tall and muscular, a handsome man certainly, complete with stormy grey eyes, thick brown hair, a tan complexion, and plump, pink lips.

The name Ryan Ohm flashed in Bryce’s mind, the tribute from District 4. Why would he be staring at Bryce? Just as Bryce thought this, Ryan ever so subtly winked at Bryce, running his eyes up and down Bryce’s frame. Bryce blushed furiously and dropped his gaze to the stone floor. He looked back up, praying that Ryan had gone, but he was still grinning at Bryce like he was a piece of meat.

“Bryce! Hurry up,” John called. Thanks to John’s interruption, Bryce had an excuse to get out of Ryan’s sights. Ryan’s stormy eyes followed Bryce to his chariot, and looked away when he had to board his own. 

Why would Bryce attract the attention of one of the career tributes? Yes, Ryan was intimidating, but if Bryce got on his good side, he too would make a good ally. Career tributes were almost always the favourites, if Bryce were associated with one of them, maybe the favouritism would rub off on him as well. Ryan Ohm was a man who could win, and he was Bryce’s top option to stay afloat.

***

“Ladies and gentlemen it gives me great pleasure to announce this year’s tributes! Give them a hand as they come out!” Lui spotted the first chariot begin to move out into the arena, every other chariot soon following behind. Arlan was shaking slightly next to him.

“Don’t be nervous Arlan, nothing can go wrong here, just enjoy yourself for the time being,” Lui said to his District 12 partner. Arlan tried to calm himself with the time they had left, being from District 12 meant they were going to be last at everything. Instead of listening to Arlan’s chattering teeth, Lui tuned into the announcer describing the various costumes.

“Up first we have District 1, the district of luxury, and they look very luxurious dressed as rubies. We have Evan Fong on the left and Jonathan Smith on the right, they appear to be holding hands. It’s been reported that they’re childhood friends.”

“Following shortly behind are the District 2 tributes, Anthony Chilled and Steven Ze. On the shorter side compared to last years District 2 tributes, but they look magnificent in their hand crafted warrior costumes, complete with the circle shields slung over their backs.”

“Up next is District 3 with Tyler Wilde and Craig Thompson, wearing shining silver robes, imitating the wave of electricity through technology. Tyler Wilde has quickly become a crowd favourite because of his large physique and charming smile, similar to District 1’s Evan Fong.”

“Emerging now is District 4, with two volunteers David Nogla and Ryan Ohm. They are wearing blue shimmering robes with pearls threaded through their hair, a very stylish choice.” When Lui saw David Nogla displayed on the screen he felt something shift inside of him, something align. That’s the one, the one Lui has to befriend. There’s something about his puppy dog eyes and windswept black hair strewn with pearls that drew Lui in. Lui barely knew Arlan, and so fat he seemed like a weak link, David was from one of the career districts so he could at least push Lui in the right direction.

“And now we see District 5 with Bryce McQuaid and John Kryoz dressed as atoms, clad in black and covered with glitter and sequins, I believe those are supposed to be electrons. Right after them is District 6, Ryan Smitty and Adam Montoya. Dressed as what appears to be wheels, the district is the head of transportation after all.”

“Now we see District 7, Luke Patterson and Mark Johnson dressed as traditional lumberjacks with plaid shirts and woollen hats. District 8 with Cody Racing and Max Gassy dressed in layers of patchwork fabrics. District 9 is coming out now with Anthony Panda and Scotty Seven as farmers, very stylish farmers might I add.”

“District 10 with Brian Hanby and Brock Snuckel, many are believing this has been the best District 10 combination of tributes in years, we’ll wait and see folks. They are dressed as cowboys, very nice. District 11 has Marcel Work and Jay Blue wrapped in a grass style toga with the best sandals I have ever seen from District 11.”

Lui and Arlan finally reached the opening and being engulfed by the light and the applause. They pair start waving, Arlan’s tremors have gone down considerably.

“And last but not least we have District 12, clad in mining gear, the trade mark of District 12.” Lui and Arlan approached the rest of the chariots in front of the president as the announcers began to wind down.

“I must say, my personal favourite outfits are the rubies, the electricity beam and the waves. Pure genius styling.”

Lui didn’t want to listen to the president, he was a cruel man for allowing these games to commence. All he was saying was that training was about to start and he wished the tributes good luck, closing the night.


	5. Chapter Five - Alliances

“Listen up everybody. This room is important. It’s where you’ll spend the majority of your time in the next week. You’ll be training with all the different personal trainers for hand to hand combat and weaponry. However, do not neglect your survival skills. There are numerous workshops around the room to sharpen your skills there. The biggest killer in the games is dehydration and disease, so it is vital to know how to protect yourself against that. May the odds be ever in your favour.” Once the skinny woman stopped speaking, Craig let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. The group of tributes began to diverge to different activities. Craig side eyed Tyler then turned to face him.

“So where should we go first?” Craig asked, eyes roaming around the training room. Tyler glanced around before drawing his conclusion.

“On the first day, I’d suspect most of the confident, stronger tributes would flock to the weaponry to either intimidate others or to draw attention to themselves. We want strong allies, so lets go to the knives first,” Tyler suggested. Craig nodded in agreement and they made their way to the knife department. The buffer man from District 4 was alone throwing knives. Craig stood at the base of the station while Tyler picked up a light knife and tossed it around in his hand. The tribute glanced at Tyler before throwing his own knife straight into the centre of his target. Tyler followed suit and landed his right next to the bull’s eye.

“Not bad for a first attempt. I know it was your first because you raised your free arm. Name’s Ryan,” the tribute smirked and offered out his hand. Tyler shook it.

“Great, I’m Tyler and this is Craig.” Tyler gestured to Craig, who raised a small hand in acknowledgment.

Ryan glowered once he saw Craig, wiping the previously held smirk off his face.

“Oh. I was considering pairing up with you, but not if you have that chick with you. Ditch the stick and we could win this together,” Ryan offered, sticking out his hand to Tyler and glaring at Craig. Craig tried not to let his hurt show, this was the kind of bullshit he had to deal with in this competition. Tyler narrowed his eyes at Ryan and took a firm step back.

“No, he stays or we walk,” Tyler insisted. Ryan shrugged, fiddling with a new knife he picked up from the rack.

“Suit yourself, you could’ve had a great ally but that’s your loss.” Ryan threw the knife with precision, piercing the bullseye once more. Tyler and Craig backed away from the knife station back to the centre of the room.

“Ok, that went well,” Craig chuckled nervously, eyes downcast.

“Don’t fret, I should have picked his type. He’s alone at the moment, trying to intimidate first. Let’s try the spears instead, I’m not too shoddy with a spear.” Tyler escorted Craig over to the spears, where two men were already throwing the various sharpened weapons. 

“Mind if we join?” Tyler asked, stepping alongside the shorter of the duo, Craig on Tyler’s other side. The taller one, and Asian man, looked over and answered.

“Not at all, there’s plenty of room to share. I’m Evan, and this is Jonathan, District 1,” Evan replied as he threw a spear into a dummy’s head.

“Tyler and Craig, District 3. Great to meet some level headed people here, so far we’ve just been met with rude comments,” Tyler explained. Craig could tell Tyler was stretching a bit to convince them to become allies with us, and by the looks of determination on their attractive faces, it seemed to be working.

“Guess that means you’ll have to stick with us, but don’t worry, we won’t bite your heads off,” Jon grinned, winking at the two tributes. A wave of relief rolled over Craig, he had finally secured an alliance with a group with diverse talents. There will be no gaps in their survival agenda.

***

David didn’t want to run after his district partner, men like him weren’t worth chasing. Ryan couldn’t seem to get away from David quick enough once they grouped up with the rest of the tributes. Instead of moping around, mourning for the loss of a possible ally, David made his way to the ropes section. It was supposed to simulate tree climbing.

David knew that climbing trees would be an important role in the games, and he struggled with climbing back in his own career training. This is definitely where he needs to concentrate. 

He had one hand on the rope, ready to hoist himself up when he felt a tap on his shoulder. David turned back to find that the tap belonged to a foot, which belonged to a short man halfway up the rope next to him. The man scurried down and landed on his feet next to David. 

“Hi, I’m Lui, District 12. Are you trying out the ropes?” The bronzed man asked.

“I’m David, District 4, and yes I am. You seem to be good at it, do you have any tips?” David answered. Lui nodded, smiling a blinding white smile, new from the grooming yesterday.

“Sure I do. The main thing is never fully straighten your arms or it will be really hard to pull yourself back up, you could pop a joint.” Lui demonstrated by scaling the rope, quickly bouncing from the floor to the ceiling, and back again. David stood impressed with his hands on his hips, squinting because of the light.

“Geez, how do you do that so quickly?” David asked, gobsmacked. Lui shrugged.

“Years of practise I guess. Climbing trees was a good way to entertain yourself in my part of District 12,” Lui replied. All of a sudden, Lui frowned and looked at the floor.

“So I saw you the other day at the tribute parade and I was taken aback. You seem so calm and so gentle. I interrupted you here because I really want to be your ally. In all honesty, you inspire me, I haven’t seen you display an ounce of negativity so far, even when I was watching the reaping from each district. My own district partner is a bit useless, but I think we could be a pair of underdogs. So, would you consider being my partner?” Lui spat out all at once. It was like ripping a bandaid off, or word vomit. David didn’t know what to say, he was flattered that someone looked up to him. There was only one thing he could say.

“Obviously! You’re a pretty great dude from what I’ve seen so far. Now we have to figure out a strategy. I think if I fight and you hunt we should be golden. I am from a career district, so I know a few things about fighting,” David offered, rubbing his scruffy chin. Lui nodded eagerly. He reached out and grabbed David’s wrist. 

“Let’s start with the survival side of the room. You can teach me how to start a fire different ways, I know a couple of basic methods, but I’m sure you know better techniques,” Lui rambled, dragging David over to the side of the room covered with bushland. David smiled at his new ally, he had a strong feeling they were going to get along like a house on fire.

***

Ryan glared at the two tributes from 3 as they sauntered away, Tyler and Craig. Tyler seemed like he would have been a fine addition to his team, but he was already too attached to his existing ally. To be fair, they may have been friends beforehand, but he should still be willing to make sacrifices to better himself in these games.

Not to mention how small Craig was. He seemed like he would break, not bend. Craig looked too weak to actively contribute to his team, he would just chew up heir resources like a leech. He was rather effeminate, which Ryan hated. Effeminate men have no place in games like these, and he has spotted a few around. He suspects the shorter one from District 1, Craig, and even...the blonde one from District 5.

The man he winked at on the parade. Bryce, Ryan believes his name to be. He was a very handsome man, a pretty boy, maybe that was Ryan’s own stereotypes distorting the view of the blonde boy. Maybe he should see him out and set things straight. 

Ryan stepped away from the knife station and scanned the room. He spotted Bryce standing by himself over at the nets and traps station. Bryce’s restless district partner recently left Bryce with a half made trap. Ryan sauntered over to Bryce, he looked like he needed a bit of help. Maybe this was an opportunity to suss out if Ryan wanted him as an ally or not.

“Hey, you looked a bit lonely and like you need a bit of help, do you need me to demonstrate?” Ryan asked cockily, holding his head high. Bryce looked him up and down, Ryan couldn’t figure out if his expression was one of agog or disgust. Bryce cleared his throat.

“No, I know what I’m doing,” Bryce said coldly. Before Ryan could open his mouth to reply, Bryce finished his rope trap, succession catching a fake animal.

“That’s impressive. I’m Ryan by the way, I’m the one that winked at you the night of the parade. If we paired up, I think we’d make a great team. What do you say?” Ryan asked, sticking out his broad palm. Only minutes earlier was he looking down upon the man, but there was something oddly charming in the way he tied those ropes. Bryce eyed his hand before grasping it in his own.

“Great! Let’s head to the knives, I want to see your skill level with weaponry.” Ryan practically dragged Bryce over to the knife station, but stopped short when he saw two large men there. They were both rippling masses of muscle, pulling taunt as they threw the knives with a scary accuracy. They laughed and bumped each other, turning around. Ryan was taken aback at how down to Earth they seemed. They were District 7’s tributes, he believed, Luke and Mark, great offers from the shoddy district.

“Amazing, you two, I wouldn’t expect less from people your size. In fact, I’d say we’re about the same mass, which means we’d make a great team,” Ryan smiled, offering out his hand to the two. They eyed each other before they smiled. Luke shook his hand first.

“Of course, as I always say, the more the merrier. And I assume you’re with Bryce too?” Luke asked, raising an eyebrow. Ryan nodded. Even though Bryce wasn’t muscular, he made up for it in height. He was as tall as Ryan, but didn’t look emancipated. He glanced around at his team, which had gone back to throwing knives and axes. They would assist Ryan’s climb to the top, but he needed to keep them in their place so they wouldn’t rebel against him or kill him. Once they made it to the final four, he knew he could easily take them all out. After all, they hadn’t been trained in the art of homicide since before they could walk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment and some kudos darls x


	6. Chapter Six - Bridges Built and Burned

Training was taking too long, Marcel concluded, but he needed to relish the time he had alive. His district partner, Jay, had receded into the corner of the survival side of the room. The first two days Jay was confident with his abilities in training, but then he stepped back and observed everyone else, which caused him to break down. District 11 rarely won the games, so there were two routes Marcel could take. He could grovel about his misfortune like Jay, or he could take initiative and build a support base, an alliance. It was definitely the second choice. 

Marcel swivelled around the room, he was looking for an idle group, or a group that was doing something he enjoyed. Spears clattered to the ground and knives hit their mark, but Marcel’s eyes were drawn to two men at the archery. One was muscular, tight fit clothing and side swept hair, he was aiming at the target. In one movement the arrow soared and sunk into the fabric left of centre. The smaller man clapped, immediately asking how to aim the bow properly. 

Marcel walked up to the two men and picked up a bow for himself. He drew a single arrow and shot it at the muscled man’s target, landing right of the bullseye. The duo swivelled around to face Marcel, stunned by his presence. 

“Oh sorry, didn’t see you there. I’m Scotty and this is Ryan, but he prefers to go by Smitty,” the muscled man, Scotty, introduced them. Marcel grinned and nodded his head.

“Sweet, I’m Marcel. I have a few things down about archery but I was hoping you’d be able to show me a bit more?” Marcel asked, raising an eyebrow at Scotty.

“Yeah, you can learn along with me, the more the merrier, right?” Smitty chimed in, smiling at Marcel. Marcel nodded and stood by Scotty’s other side as he drew another arrow. 

“When did you two meet? Did you know each other at the reaping?” Marcel asked, eying the two men. They looked at each other quizzically.

“Oh, we aren’t from the same district, I met Scotty on the first day by the axes. He was hurling them like no tomorrow and I thought, damn, I gotta learn how to do that,” Smitty explained while Scotty shot an arrow, missing the bullseye by mere inches.

“There’s not much to do out in District 9. Grain, seriously? My brothers and I spent a lot of time fighting when we were younger, so I’m not too bad with my fists either,” Scotty said, smirking a bit. Marcel raised an eyebrow. Was Scotty trying to intimidate Marcel already? Was he trying to squash Marcel into his personal hierarchy in the group?

“That’s awesome, we’ll have to have a fist fight over there soon,” Marcel challenged, vaguely gesturing in the direction of the hand to hand combat. 

Scotty met Marcel’s eyes, clearly shocked to have received a rebuttal. They stared at each other, Marcel taking in the shape of Scotty’s jaw and lips. Then a knife clattered to the floor by Smitty’s feet. 

A small, stocky man ran over and knelt down to grab the knife. His wavy blonde hair fell in front of his beady, bloodshot eyes. He was at least half a foot shorter than Marcel, who wasn’t tall to begin with. 

“O-oh, I’m sorry for disturbing you, I’ll just get back to defusing my bomb,” the man said, before scampering off. The three men looked at each other before hurrying after the boy.

“Hey wait! Did you say defusing a bomb? Is there a way you could show us some things about bombs? We’re Smitty, Scotty, and Marcel by the way,” Smitty exclaimed, holding a hand out to the jittery stranger. He smiled when he realised he was about to gain some allies.

“Not a problem, I know a few things about electronics, I’m John, but I go by my last name Kryoz,” Kryoz introduced. He set to work on the wires and bits of metal, showing the trio how to harvest parts of a bomb to make a fire. 

***

Ryan’s eyes swept the room while the rest of his alliance were training. Luke was throwing axes with Mark while Bryce was researching different types of edible plants and how to spot them. Luke’s axes were hitting the white dummies with a 100% accuracy rate. Into the head or chest every single time. Mark...not so much. He was good with the close targets but he failed to hit even one of the dummies situated further into the corners of the station. 

Ryan observed Bryce, folded carefully over a row of plants and a myriad of books. His finely-boned fingers swiftly flickered and fluttered through the pages, and felt the variety of plant leaf textures. He froze on a specific sample, his eyes shot up directly to Ryan.

“Ryan, come see this,” Bryce gestured for Ryan to join Bryce’s side. Ryan sauntered to Bryce’s side. Although Bryce was a tall, thin man, Ryan was even taller still, and could easily look down on Bryce. 

Ryan looked back and forth between all the different types of plants Bryce was nursing. His eyes fell on a peculiar purple plant with small berries. Ryan could swear he had seen it somewhere before, years earlier in his career training. What was it’s name again?

“See this purple fruit? This is Nightlock, the deadliest plant in the games. If even a drop of juice were you enter your system, you would be dead within minutes, no cure,” Bryce explained to a shocked Ryan, “my point is, imagine the possibilities. You could drop it into someone’s food, force it down their throat, anything. Of course, this would probably be a last resort for you, but I still think it’s worth having the knowledge.” 

Ryan nodded gratefully. Bryce was right though, he’d probably never use this, but now he could watch out for other people using it too. 

A loud thud turned the heads of most of the tributes, including Ryan. One of the tributes from District 2 lay on the floor, face down, while the other one knelt at his side trying to hoist him into an upright position. Oh, those tributes. The ones from District 2 that shouldn’t even be here, who were deluded even to volunteer and have been rejected by every alliance. Too scrawny to make it passed the first day. 

Ryan sauntered over to the pair and knelt next to them. The two men looked over to him, stunned at Ryan’s sudden presence. Ryan suddenly remembered their names once he was closer to them. The one who fell was Steven and the other helping him up was Anthony.

“You’re the careers from Two, yeah?” The pair nodded, smiling. Ryan could tell they were thinking they were about to gin an ally. How wrong they would be.

“I just wanted to ask, why did you bother? Why did you bother volunteering when you bring disgrace to your district? Are you not aware of how awful the pair of you are? You could never live up to the standards of the rest of the possible career tributes. In fact, you have robbed me of a bit of actual competition, so stay out of my way.” Ryan stood up, not breaking eye contact, before turning and retreating. 

***

Brock couldn’t stop sneaking glances at Brian. His strong fingers flipped through pages of camouflage references, eyes glinting every time he found a particularly good design. Brock was working on mixing various paints from organic substances; crushed up berries, water, and herbs. Brock watched as the mix began to turn a soft brown tone. He glanced over to the book Brian was flicking through, his eyes caught a peculiar pattern.

“Stop! That one,” Brock pointed to the bark in the middle of the page. The bark was tinged with spots of purple, maybe from a mould or animal, but it resembled the purple spots left from the berries. Brock began to dab paint splotches all over the back of his hand, creating a base layer to work with. After completing that, he began to work in the finer details, adding darker lines to match the bark in the picture. 

Brock could feel his face heat up, Brian watched his every move like he was learning the meaning of life. Brock tried to focus on painting his hand, but Brian’s presence was drawing his attention away from the task. 

“Brock, seriously how do you do that? It’s like magic, the way you paint. You have a serious talent, it’s a shame these games have taken that opportunity away from you,” Brian whispered, his face fell. Brock stopped, a cold wave hitting him.

“Yeah, I almost forgot why I was here for a second. But...you’re right,” Brock replied. 

“On the plus side, once you win the games, you can sell your paintings in the Capitol, make a real brand for yourself,” Brian said with a soft, somber smile etched on his face. Brock’s head snapped to face Brian.

“What do you mean when I win the games? I won’t be making it out, it’s you that deserves to win, Brian,” Brock asserted, furrowing his eyebrows and squaring Brian up. Brian lightly smacked his upper arm, scoffing. 

“Shut up, you’re too talented to be wasted. You aren’t sacrificing your life for the likes of me,” Brian replied. Brock raised an eyebrow at his crush. Surely he couldn’t think that he was less than Brock, Brian was a god among men. An angel wielding a fiery sword, smiting all of Brock’s doubts and negativity, replacing it only with love. 

But gods couldn’t love mortals, mythology from the Capitol archives, thousands of years prior to the present proved this. Loving gods only brought immeasurable pain. Loving Brian was no different. He always felt just a little bit out of reach, like his fingertips were just about to graze his target. But now, his target was inching closer to him, their warm breath mingling together. Specs of light danced in Brian’s unfairly bright, blue eyes. 

Brock gasped and turned away, he knocked over the pot of paint and now the thick liquid was spilling down the table, staining the books a dull brown. Brock quickly pulled it up as Brian began to clean it up with nearby leaf matter. As Brock tidied the mess, he tried not to think about how he was inches away from Brian’s tempting lips, and concentrated more on how they only have a week left with each other.


	7. Chapter Seven - Assessments

Assessment day, the day that makes or breaks your chance to get a sponsor. Evan and Jon were the earliest tributes there. They sat at the front of the waiting room, next to the sign that labelled their chairs as “District 1”. Behind them were the two chairs for District 2, behind those were District 3 and so on. 

Evan listened closely for the sound of approaching footsteps, once all the tributes were there he would be the first assessment. Those footsteps weren’t coming yet, which kept Evan in disgusting anticipation. He already decided what he was going to use. Evan was going to spear every single dummy through the head, without fail. There was no margin for failure. He hadn’t asked Jon what his plans were yet.

“Hey Jon, what are you going to-“ Evan stopped at the sound of footsteps. The other tributes were filtering into the room. They starting to fill up the rows of seats, up to District 8. The last four districts were yet to come, then Evan would be called in. 

He would never admit it in front of Jonathan, but Evan was terrified. He eyed Jon out the side of his eye. Evan’s eyes trailed down the side of Jonathan’s smooth, well taken care of skin. His eyes stopped at his hand, dangling just below the seat of the chair. Evan wanted nothing more than to grasp that hand in that instance. His fingers twitched with want, need.

As the rest of the tributes came in, Evan decided ‘fuck it’, and softly held Jonathan’s hand in his own, their fingers entwining. He saw Jon’s faint smile, and that was the only reassurance he needed in that moment.

Everything stood still.

The door swung open and a peacekeeper emerged. Evan’s stomach dropped, he didn’t want to leave Jon’s side. 

“Evan Fong, District 1,” the man read out. Evan took a deep breath, trying to calm his persistent nerves. He slowly let go and composed himself. Now that he was standing, the other tributes could see him and Evan couldn’t afford to let any weakness shine through. He took heavy steps towards the peacekeeper, straightening his back. As he stepped through the door, he got one last glance at Jonathan. His cheeks were rosy and a calming smile was painted on his face, directed only at Evan. 

The door closed behind Evan and he faced forward. Soon he found himself in the centre of the training room, only everything was more in order and the dummies had all been replaced so none had any piercings in them.

“Evan Fong, you will have 10 minutes to show us what you can do. Choose one item of your choice, demonstrate your skill, then you will be allowed to return to your room and await your result,” a tall woman spoke from above him. All the judges were relaxing on a balcony, eating and drinking and laughing and being free. How dare they be free when Evan was stuck down there? Fuck it, when all the tributes were stuck in the Capitol, on a death schedule. Was he starting to regret volunteering? No...he needed to be here to protect Jonathan, to ensure his survival.

For him.

Evan picked up a spear. He was going to give them the best fucking show they’ve ever seen.

***

The tributes before him slowly trickled into the training room situated just behind the looming doors. Craig did not have many tributes in front of him, so he was even more nervous than the tributes behind him. So far, everyone who has gone before Craig has been very physically orientated, while Craig’s genius was in his mind. Would the judges get bored of him too quickly? No, if they can sit through the District 2 tribute’s assessments, they can sit through him.

As mean as it was, Craig couldn’t help but jump on the hateful bandwagon directed at the District 2 men. There were boys here that were weaker than those two, but it was so strange and foreign to not have strong people from a career district. The disdain Craig felt for them made Craig feel occasional twangs of guilt, so he was just going to avoid them.

“Hey, I can see you freaking out in your chair here, don’t be too nervous. If you get a lower score, that’s ok because you’ll fly under the radar of people outside our alliance. Like that Ryan guy, I don’t trust him for a second,” Tyler mused, snapping Craig from his anxious thoughts. Craig stared into Tyler’s piercing eyes for a moment. He opened his mouth but the door slammed open.

“Tyler Wilde, you’re up,” the peacekeeper said. Craig watched and stayed still as his anchor was ripped away from him. The only thing keeping him grounded was being taken away. Tyler shot Craig one last smile before disappearing behind the door. Tyler was going to do perfectly, he’s been excelling at all kinda of training since the duo arrived in the Capitol. Craig would pale in comparison to his...love.

Craig sat on his hands to stop them from shaking. Tyler wouldn’t take long, and then Craig would have to give it all he’s got. He shut his eyes to brace himself, and when he opened them his name was called.

“Craig Thompson, you’re next,” the peacekeeper announced. He took in a shaky breath before standing and making his way to the training room. He was alone in the centre of the room, looking up to the judges.

“Welcome, Thompson, you have ten minutes to demonstrate your skills to us. Pick a specialty and your tools. Your time starts now.”

Craig scanned the room. He would have a dreadful score if he used any of the weapons for combat. He walked to the traps station. If he could rig a device so it could trap running prey, that might work in his favour. He began working on his trap, weaving ropes in between each other, placing a net across the ground that would spring up if something walked across it. 

Once he was satisfied with his work, he looked back up to the judges to see if they were paying attention. Some were distracted in their own conversations but the majority of them were watching him, some even jotting down notes. He looked around for something to set of the trap, to demonstrate that it worked. He settled on a spare cog lying on a nearby table. He squatted down and rolled the cog across the ground. It ran across the net, but before it left the net’s circumference the net folded up and over itself, trapping the cog. He looked back up to the judges and bowed.

“Thank you, Craig. You may now return to your quarters or join the rest of your tributes in the lobby to see your results, which will air in about three hours.”

Craig was escorted from the room and found Tyler in the lobby with Evan and Jon.

“We could go back to our quarters to watch it together, if you don’t want to interact with the other tributes,” Craig offered.

“Sounds good to me, I don’t like the rest of them. We’ll grab our mentor,” Jon replied.

***

Ryan watched the career tributes enter the training room, then Tyler, then finally a jittery Craig. From his deductions, his only real competitions could be Evan and Tyler. Luke and Mark might have been a threat if they weren’t Ryan’s allies. The only thing dragging Tyler down was Craig. The fucking pipsqueak who won’t leave his side. He ruined Ryan’s chances of recruiting Tyler for his alliance. 

There was almost nothing redeeming about Craig, Ryan thought. He was too small to pack a punch or properly handle a weapon. The only thing he could possibly be useful for would be strategy, but he had Bryce for that. He didn’t need another weakling on his team. 

In the arena, he may have to watch for Craig though. He’s not weighed down by muscle or fat, so he could easily sneak up on Ryan and his squad and kill them while they slept. That is assuming that his own team was too inept to keep watch at night. Maybe Tyler or Evan or even the other guy from District 1 could keep Craig as their shield, sacrifice him if things got too difficult. That would be the logical thing to do, rat someone else out to save your own hide. 

David shifted in his chair next to Ryan, accidentally kicking Ryan in the process.

“Oh sorry Ryan, didn’t mean it bud,” David tried to apologise, but it came out rather lame. 

“Why are you here, Nogla? There were better people than you to do this,” Ryan sighed. David turned away from his district partner, scowling.

“Shut up, Ryan. You’ve always been like this, even outside of training back in District 4. You’re no better than the rest of us,” David attacked, just before the door swung open for the fifth time.

“Ryan Ohm? You’re turn,” the peacekeeper said. 

Ryan leaned in close to David and whispered, “watch your fucking back, Nogla. You’re dirt beneath my feet.”

Ryan entered the room, filtering out what the judges were saying. He knew what he was here do to. He grabbed some knives and made his way to three dummies standing upright against a wall. He pictured the first dummy as David, landing two knives straight to the chest, and one in the middle of the target on the face. He moved to the second one, this one appeared as Craig in his mind. He hurled the knives in the targets at lightning speed, grunting with his efforts. His last target was Tyler, the asshole who rejected him and his efforts to recruit him. He sent a knife into the chest and head. He had a spare knife, which he threw into the groin of Craig’s dummy. 

Ryan sauntered to the dummies, trying to keep a cool composure, like he was a professional at what he was doing. He extracted the knives from the dummies, and dumped them on the ground except for one. He needed a big finish, something that was going to make the judges remember his name. 

He tossed the knife in his hand before swiftly beheading all three dummies in one fell swoop. He couldn’t help but marvel in how powerful he felt. 

He vowed to himself that he was going to do that to those three boys in the games, and he would stop at nothing to win.


	8. Chapter Eight - Scores

In Tyler and Craig’s quarters, six people were sprawled across the couches, avidly waiting the results of their assessments. The four were Evan, Jonathan, Tyler, Craig, and their mentors, Blake Irving and Diana Sue. Evan was able to let his nerves show in the safety of the private room. Everyone else was just as nervous as he was. The assessments finished hours ago, they were eagerly waiting for the television to flash on and for the announcers to appear.

“What are the odds that Evan will get the biggest score?” Tyler wagered, smiling at Evan. Evan scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Don’t be dumb, you’ll get the highest score. Everyone here agrees with me, Tyler,” Evan retailed.

“Actually, I gotta say I agree with you Evan. Only because you’re a piece of shit,” Jon snickered. Evan whacked his arm, secretly smiling on the inside.

“Hate to be a mood buster, but what if Ryan gets the top score?” Craig piped up. The room went silent.

“Then we crush him, all of us,” Tyler said, slamming his fist into his open palm. Jon grinned wickedly and tipped his glass, downing the water.

The television flashed on, and the familiar faces of the presenters were front and centre. Everyone’s heads snapped back to the screen. Diana patted Tyler’s shoulder, a comforting gesture that she thinks he’ll do well. She reached over and did the same to Craig.

“Good evening, Panem. Our tributes fought hard for the top spot today, a chance to become the competition’s favourites. The results of their assessments are out of twelve, and here they are,” the announcer revealed. The screen flashed to a picture of Evan, the professional photos that were taken on the day they arrived right after the grooming.

A deep, automated voice boomed, “District 1, Evan Fong, 10.” Evan’s eyes shone with pride, happiness, and relief. Ten was a top score, not many people will beat that. The average is around six or seven. Evan could well become a favourite off of this.

“Amazing, Evan, told you that you had nothing to worry about, you’re a beefcake,” Tyler smirked, posing and flexing his muscles in a way to imitate Evan. Evan blushed with humbleness.

“I can’t wait to see your scores, you’ll all do just as well as me no doubt,” Evan shot back, trying to not appear cocky in front of his allies. While they were talking, pictures of Evan in the training room bounced around the screen. Then Jonathan’s beaming, beautiful face appeared on the screen.

“District 1, Jonathan Smith, 8.” The voice disappeared and Evan threw his arms around Jon’s shoulders. He didn’t hesitate to congratulate his friend, he deserved it after the hard work he’s put in over the past week. Evan couldn’t pin why...but he felt so natural in Jonathan’s arms. Like he was made to be there.

“Uh, Evan?” Jon coughed out. Evan shot off his friend, realising his hug may have gone on a fraction too long.

“I’m happy for you bud, we’ve just got to wait for Tyler and Craig’s results, then we’ll be crowned the alliance to watch,” Evan announced, mentors and tributes alike nodding in agreement.

***

Tyler had no right to be jealous. He was happy for his new friend, he worked hard and earned that high score. Yet Tyler was still nervous he wouldn’t meet the standards set by Evan. Tyler’s score hasn’t been released yet, the District 2 results were being announced. 

“District 2, Anthony Chilled, 6,” the announcer read. The pictures of Anthony changed to pictures of the other District 2 tributes, Steven Ze. Tyler silently thought that Anthony did better than expected. He seemed to fumble a lot with his movements, and be sloppy with his attacks. He was generally an awkward person that would probably only kill someone by accident. 

“District 2, Steven Ze, 4.” Even worse than his predecessor. Tyler just prayed that District 3’s results would be better than this. For his sake...but even more so for Craig.

“Now there’s two less people you have to worry about, boys,” Diana said.

Craig’s serious face appeared on screen, Tyler had never seen him look so serious except for at the reaping. His heart leapt for his friend, hoping for a good score. Craig had told Tyler that he didn’t use weapons, that instead he rigged a trap. Tyler knew that Craig executed it flawlessly, but the judges tend to unfairly boost people who use weapons.

“District 3, Craig Thompson, 8.” Tyler watched as Craig’s smile lit up like the moon on the clearest of nights. He threw his hands up and cheered.

“Yes! I did way better than what I expected,” Craig cheered. Tyler clapped his back, but instead of removing his hand, he kept it there. Who knows, maybe it was a sign of reassurance, belief, or maybe Tyler didn’t want to let go. 

Then Tyler’s face appeared. In that particular photo they showed, Tyler had tried to appeared as intimidating as possible. He would have liked to think it had worked, but Craig shot down his hopes.

“Why do you look constipated?” Craig giggled. Jon doubled over, howling with laughter. He reached across the glass coffee table to give Craig a high five, Evan was poorly stifling his laughter. Tyler furrowed his eyebrows, feigning anger.

“District 3, Tyler Wilde, 11.” The laughter died on their lips, the room was silent as the slide transferred. Tyler tried to shrink into the seat, all eyes were on him.

“How...what did you do to get an 11?” Diana asked. “That rarely happens.”

“I just...I don’t know. I used the swords, must’ve done it well enough to gain their approval,” Tyler shrugged. 

“All you four, especially Evan and you, Tyler, better watch your backs in the arena. This puts you at the top of the group, you’ll have a lot of enemies specifically after you now. I doubt someone else will reach your scores now. They’re a strong cohort this year, but most will still fall around average,” Diana explained.

No sooner had she said that, the voice returned, announcing the next score and instantly proving her wrong, “District 4, Ryan Ohm, 11.”

***

Eleven. How did he get eleven? Ryan, the egotistical twat who has spent the previous week bitching about everyone outside of his four man alliance. No one ever gets over ten, unless they were killing machines, and so far three people have gotten over ten and it is only four districts in.

David sat, silently fuming as Ryan leapt of the couch and whooped a victory cry. 

“That’s right. Fuck the rest of them! They better watch their fucking asses now. I’m going to have the crowds behind me, sending ME sponsors and I’ll be leaving THEM in the dust!” Through Ryan’s screaming, David almost missed his own score of 7. Not a bad score, about the average. 

In David’s eyes, the best place to be right now would be in the middle. If he’s too high up, all the other tributes will be chasing after him, either trying to befriend him or kill him. He didn’t need any other friends besides Lui. However, if he was too far down the chain, he would be a target in the bloodbath at the start of the games, an easy kill. 

David’s mentor was twitching beside him, eyes burning, aimed at Ryan. He snapped.

“Listen, Ryan. You have to drop the cocky attitude. You know what’ll happen if you keep it up? You’ll gain a lot of enemies and be speared within the first five minutes. Just because you’ve gotten a high score, does NOT mean you’ll win this competition. This isn’t a game of scores it’s a game of survival and tactic. I thought in this week you would have realised that, but apparently not. Get your head out of your own ass,” the mentor finished, sighing and sitting back down, having shot up during his rant.

Ryan’s right eye begin to twitch. David shrank back into his seat, waiting for the explosion to happen. He’d seen it before in the career training at District 4, and it was about to happen again. 

Ryan flipped the glass coffee table in front of them with a mighty yell. The glass smashed and scattered across the panel flooring. 

“How dare you speak to me like that? You are here to serve me! To aid me while I win the games, you can’t just say whatever you want!” Ryan yelled. He picked up a handful of shards from the floor and hurled them at the mentor’s face. From what David saw before he shielded his own eyes, a shard cut open his cheek and another got embedded in his right eye. The man’s hands shot up in front of his face, screaming.

David jumped over the back of the couch and ran out of the room, trying to find the nearest Avox or bodyguard. A man clad in black was in the hallway just outside their high story room. 

“Follow me right now, a tribute has just attacked his mentor!” David explained, grabbing the guard’s wrist and dragging him along. The man shot a signal to more guards, calling for backup. When they reached the room, Ryan was still shouting abuse at the mentor, standing in the pool of glass. The guards began to escort the mentor to first aid. 

“I can’t stand to work like this, I quit! Find a different mentor for David and leave Ryan on his own,” the mentor’s voice disappeared around the corner.

“There’s nothing they can do to punish me, the games are the day after the interviews, they can’t replace me now,” Ryan smirked, he was right. The TV was still running in the background:

“District 5, Bryce McQuaid, 8,”

“District 5, John Kryoz, 6”

“District 6, Ryan Smitty, 6”

“District 6, Adam Montoya, 7”

“District 7, Luke Patterson, 9”

“District 7, Mark Johnson, 8”

“District 8, Cody Racing, 3”

“District 8, Max Gassy, 5”

“District 9, Scotty Seven, 9”

“District 9, Anthony Panda, 4”

“District 10, Brian Hanby, 8”

“District 10, Brock Snuckel, 7”

“District 11, Marcel Work, 7”

“District 11, Jay Blue, 6”

“District 12, Lui Calibre, 7”

“District 12, Arlan Droid, 6”


	9. Chapter Nine - Interviews

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: sexual assault at the end of the chapter, it makes a reappearance later in the fic. Warning, this is a long chapter :) leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed, I love hearing from everyone

The bedazzling lights illuminated the stage, the interviewer standing and bowing in the middle as a fanfare played and the audience clapped. Felix was his name, he was famous enough to not have a last name to back up the first.

"Hello Panem!" Felix shouted, the crowd roared back. "Yes, thank you. Tonight is the night you've all been waiting for! Over the past week we've watched our tributes train for the Hunger Games, and here's our chance to get to known them on a personal level. You know the drill, we'll bring out a tribute from each district, one at a time. Now...let's give it up for our lucky first tribute from District 1, Mr. Evan Fong!" Felix announced, swinging an arm out to side stage, gesturing for Evan to join him.

Evan made his way out in front of the audience. He was wearing a tight, black suit with his hair styled up in a faux do. He smiled coyly, his lips staying shut. Felix gestured for Evan to take the seat next to him. Evan leaned back into the chair, resting one ankle on the knee of his other leg. He was gripping each arm of the couch tightly, but the cameras don't pick it up.

"So Evan, how are you feeling? You're in the top three favourites and the games are tomorrow," Felix asked. Evan rubbed the nape of his neck. He was feeling pretty proud, but his mentor said that if he played up his humbleness, he'd win more fans.

"Uh...I don't think it's a big deal. Anything can happen in the arena. I just need to keep my head up and hope for the best," Evan smiled.

"And your allies? I hear you've already formed pretty close bonds with Craig and Tyler from District 3, and you've known Jon your whole life?" Felix asked.

"Yeah, the three of them are really great mates, and Jon and I have been friends as long as I can remember," Evan said. The audience cooed.

"I think we have a few instances of childhood friends in the games this year, I have to admit it's quite unlucky. Best of luck, Mr Fong," Felix replied. Evan stood up and bowed to the audience before leaving the stage.

"Up next we have Mr. Jonathan Smith from District 1," Felix exclaimed. Jon followed the introduction, clad in a deep blue suit with a matching bow tie.

"Welcome, Jon. Now, I've come to an understanding that you and Mr Fong are childhood friends, are you not?" Felix asked, side-eyeing the audience. Jon sighed and nodded, of course they wanted to ask Jon about Evan, but not vice versa.

"Yes, we are. Evan and I have always had...a connection, I know he's too oblivious to understand this, and probably won't be watching this at the moment, but I think the connection was more strongly felt on my side," Jon confessed. Felix opened his mouth in shock and awe, some members of the audience gasped and others cooed. Homosexuality wasn't frowned upon in the capitol, so the audience didn't feel anger towards Jon, just sorrow.

"Oh my, and now fate has brought you two together in the games, the best of luck to the both of you. You've taken the capitol by storm. Everyone, a round of applause for Jonathan Smith of District 1!" Felix shouted, taking Jon's hand, forcing him to stand and bow to the crowd. Jon smiled and waved as he walked off.

"Up next we have Anthony Chilled from District 2, welcome Anthony," Felix announced, sitting back down. Anthony jogged out and waved to the crowd, stunned at their light applause. Evan and Jon got cheering and whooping when they walked out, why didn't he?

"Tell me, Anthony, are you aware that your entire district is looking down on you? You volunteered, but you have no survival skills, why would you condemn yourself like that?"

"Thanks Felix. I am aware of the hate towards Steven and I, we aren't exactly the best contenders for the games, but that doesn't mean I'll give up fighting that easily. I'd say I'm an underdog, I"ll strike in the games, mark my words," Anthony grinned with his response. It was the idealistic bullshit the Capitol loved to eat up. Whoops arose from the crowds with his bold statement. Felix raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing what Anthony was spouting. After more questions about his strategy, Anthony departed from the stage and Steven Ze walked on.

"Welcome Steven. I have to say I'm disappointed but not surprised that you got the lowest score in the competition, how does that feel?" Felix asked, leaning forward. Steven couldn't hold his scoff back.

"Give over, I didn't get the lowest score, Cody got a three." Steve crossed his arms and huffed. Felix shot back and blushed, embarrassed over his mistake.

"Oh, sorry Steven, my notes must be mixed up..." Felix fumbled for an excuse.

"I'm going to be the first one off the pedestal in the games. I'm going to get to the cornucopia first, and grab everything I need before running off to survive with Chilled. We won't hesitate to kill anyone we come across." The audience cheered at Steven's announcement. They really love their drama, Steven thought. Steven eventually left and Felix made the crowd do a drum roll before calling for Tyler.

Tyler wore a magenta tux with neat, black slacks. The crowd applause was deafening. He smiled and waved to the crowd before sitting down opposite to Felix.

"Good evening, Tyler, how are you enjoying the Capitol so far?"

"It's incredible, never thought the Capitol would have better food than District 3," Tyler replied.

"That's good then. Now, you are aware that you and Ryan are tied for the favourite right now? And that your friend Evan is not far behind? How does that make you feel?" Felix asked, clasping his hands. Tyler blew air passed his lips in an 'O' shape and leaned back in his seat.

"Honestly I cannot believe it, out of all the tributes, I somehow manage to get the favourite spot? And Evan, Jon, and Craig aren't too far behind. Not to spoil anything for you Felix but I think you're in for a tough round this year," Tyler chuckled and jabbed a finger at the host. Felix laughed and nodded.

"About Craig, you two were somewhat friends back at your district? I think it's rather sweet how you've kept him around despite his lack of fighting skills." Immediately, Tyler's whole demeanour changed.

"Hold on, if you're all brawn and no brains, you won last a day in the arena. I'm astounded that you haven't recognised that yet. Craig stands a better chance than me. Sure I can kill other people, but that means nothing if I can't survive in the elements," Tyler argued, glaring at the host. He swiftly apologise and welcomed Craig out as Tyler left the stage.

"Now Craig, I want to talk about your score. It was surprisingly high, and I'm under the impression that you built a trap as your assessment? Most trap scores don't get about 7," Felix pondered.

"Yeah I'm ecstatic about my score, it couldn't have gone any better than that," Craig replied.

"There's another question that's been nagging in my mind, do you idolise Tyler?" Felix asked.

"In a sense, yes. He makes me a better person, he makes me want to push myself and strive for the best, as cliche as that sounds," Craig responded.

"Aw, that's very sweet Craig, best of luck in the games," Craig made his way off stage, "Now we have David Nogla from District 4, another volunteer, welcome David." The audience clapped as David stumbled out onto stage. He corrected his posture and sat next to Felix.

"So it has come to my attention that you've been abandoned by your district partner, is this true?" Felix asked.

"To put it lightly, it was a mutual decision. We never got along back at home, so I don't intend to now," David shrugged. Felix nodded, understanding.

"So you've saddled up with Lui Calibre from District 12, how do you think you two will go?" Felix asked. David thought about his answer for a moment.

"If it came down to us two being the final two, I would sacrifice myself so that Lui would win, which is more than I can say for Ryan, he wouldn't do that for anyone," David stated boldly, the audience eating up the tension and the slander.

"Very interesting. Sadly David, our time is up so I have to call out your district partner, give it up for David and Ryan!" David left as Ryan entered, the audience didn't miss the daggers in Ryan's eyes, landing target in David's back. They cheered anyway.

"Ryan, welcome buddy. How do you feel about everything?"

"Amazing, I already know who's going to be the victor of this year's games, do you want to know?" Ryan asked. Felix nodded and leaned in, as if he was being let into some big secret.

"Me," Ryan shouted into his ear. Ryan's fans screamed in the audience.

"No doubt about it?" Felix puzzled. Ryan shook his head.

"What about your weaknesses?" Felix asked.

"What about them? They don't exist, Felix, you'll soon see," Ryan flashed a winning smile at the crowds, flicking his brown locks to the side.

"Best of luck with that mindset Ryan, the capitol love you! And Tyler, of course, we'll see what goes down between you two in the games," Felix said, trying to get Ryan to leave. He didn't like his cocky attitude, he didn't understand how the rest of the Capitol ate it up.

"Ah here comes the pretty boy, Bryce McQuaid! As you all know, most of the boys this year are pretty boys, but let's leave it at that," Felix chuckled, directed to the audience. Bryce didn't let his discomfort show, he couldn't stop being his cheery persona.

"Bryce there's one burning question on my mind, do you feel a bit out of place seeing all of your allies are muscled men?" Felix asked. What a strange question, Bryce thought.

"Yeah a bit, I guess when you put it like that. I am a pretty thin man, but that makes me quick, and there's less target space," Bryce laughed with the host and the crowds.

"Good to see you can keep your sense of humour up, and what you said is very true. Were you listening to Ryan's interview, how he said he has no weaknesses? You just pointed one out. If another tribute has terrible aim, that doesn't matter because they'd be more likely to land a hit on him rather than you," Felix laughed. Bryce refrained from laughing, knowing that Ryan would be mad if he found out.

"I think that Ryan has a good shot at winning this, big target or not. He's a man of brawn, but teamed with me, who I'd say is good at strategy, the other's don't stand a chance. That's not even mentioning Mark and Luke, who are two very skilled men as well," Bryce explained. After the questions stopped, Bryce left and John Kryoz was welcomed out.

"Welcome, John-"

"Ah, just call me Kryoz, it's more unique," Kryoz corrected him.

"Ok Kryoz. What I'm going to ask might be a bit sensitive, but was there any trauma in your life that made you so skittish?" Felix asked. Kryoz nodded slowly, maybe this was the perfect time to score some pity points with the sponsors.

"Yes there was, when I was twelve my mother passed away. After that...my dad changed, he became abusive towards my sister and I. It got even worse three years ago, my sister was reaped and she died in the games. Ever since then I've had PTSD, they broadcasted her death all over the district because she almost made it home. Ask anyone who knew me beforehand, I was a happy-go-lucky kid, and now everything's come back because I was reaped for this year's games, and all I can do is my best." The stadium was silent.

"Thank you for sharing Kryoz, it really means a lot that you shared that with us. One thing, aren't you worried how your dad will react now that you've told the whole of Panem?" Felix asked. Kryoz laughed.

"No, I won't see him again, and if I do manage to make it out of the games, I'll have special treatment and won't have to live with him anymore," Kryoz responded, a small smirk alight on his face.

Ryan Smitty was next, who told Felix to just call him Smitty to avoid confusion with Ryan Ohm.

"Yeah, he's more important apparently, so he can go by his first name. But you know what? Smitty sounds way cooler than Ryan," Smitty got a few laughs with that.

"How do you think you'll go in the games Smitty?"

"I know my fate, I'm nothing special, it'll be someone from District 1, 3, or 4 going home. If worst comes to worst, I'll sacrifice myself for my teammates, that's a promise, all of them are more capable than me. As long as I'm helping my allies, I'll be happy," Smitty concluded.

"That's touching, truly, Smitty, good luck." Smitty left the stage and Adam followed on.

"Welcome Adam, nervous?"

"Nah, not particularly. I'd just like to start by saying I think I'm an underdog right now," Adam started strongly. Felix nodded.

"I'm inclined to agree with you there. You got a magnificent score, but no one's really talking about you, to put it bluntly, why do you think that is?"

"Maybe because I'm a lone wolf, I don't plan on having any allies, that's how you get attached." Adam's interview ended shortly and Luke Patterson came out.

"This is a man I've been looking forward to meeting, right everyone?" Felix asked the crowd, who cheered back.

"Thanks everyone I'm flattered," Luke responded with a humble smile.

"You're a very muscled man, are you built because you chop wood back in your district?" Felix asked, Luke was stunned at the question, what a strange thing to ask.

"Um...yeah, I guess. It's harder than it looks," Luke laughed nervously.

"Ah I love it. Now for a more serious question, what's your stance on Ryan's bravado?" Luke paused and thought for a second.

"I think it's very important in a competition like this to keep a strong front, if he allows himself to cave in from the pressure, then he's already lost. I think Ryan's done a very good job and mastering confidence," Luke responded.

Luke's interview finished and Mark made his way out, looking like his suit might burst open at any second.

"So Mark, what's it like to constantly be in Luke's shadow. He seems to be the front man of District 7," Felix asked insensitively. Mark frowned.

"I don't know, I didn't even know I was in his shadow." What a rude man, Mark thought. His interview wrapped up quickly after that.

"Now everyone, we have Cody Racing from District 8, give it up!" Felix said, throwing a hand out to the side of the stage. Cody dawdled to his seat, the applause dim.

"Cody, how are your alliances?" Felix asked, he didn't get a reply.

"Have you made any allies?" Felix asked again. Cody looked up at Felix before glaring at his feet once more.

"Ah, not a man of many words," Felix tried to joke. The audience laughed with him, but Cody didn't think it was too funny.

"I'm not daft, you know. I know I stand no chance. I came here to die," Cody spat. He opened his mouth to let more profanities fly, but a man in black with a headset rushed out and hoisted Cody up by his arm and ushered him off.

"Yikes, sorry about that everyone. Here to lighten the mood a bit is Max Gassy of District 8, welcome him!" Felix clapped along with the crowd.

Throughout his interview, Max tried to lighten the mood, his district partner completely bombed and placed him in an awkward situation. He said that despite the setting, he has faith in his allies, Steven Ze and Anthony Chilled.

Scotty from District 9 emerged next, wearing polka dot suspenders with his suit.

"I have to say Scotty, I'm very impressed with your score. How did you achieve it?" Felix asked.

"I used the weapons and nailed every target," Scotty replied, nodding his head.

"I've heard your endurance is almost superhuman, how come?"

"I guess it's because of my upbringing, I had to run all over the district with errands from my parents, so thank them for my fitness." Scotty finished his interview after thank, and Anthony Panda made his way out.

Throughout his interview he made jokes at his expense, particularly at his lack of fitness, he said that Scotty was the one hogging all the fitness.

"Seriously though, thanks for having me Felix. I would like to thank all the tributes for the time I spent training with them, for making it enjoyable despite the circumstances, and good luck to everyone when the time comes," Anthony bowed and blew kisses to the crowd before leaving.

"Now we have another favourite childhood friends duo up next, we start with Brock Snuckel, welcome up here Brock," Felix greeted Brock. He bashfully waved to the crowd as he sat down. The Capitol ate up his humble nature.

"There's been several cases of childhood friends these games, in District 1, 2 ,3 and now in District 10. How do you differ to everyone else, Brock?" Felix asked, secretly sensing his answer. Brock gulped, it was now or never. If Brian rejected him, he would have no where else to turn except maybe Craig who he spoke to a bit throughout training.

"I think our case, is special, because I don't want us to be friends. I want to call Brian my own, if you get what I'm saying." Brock looked at his feet and blushed as the crowd cooed. Brian was standing side stage and his heart dropped when he heard Brock say that. He screamed out "wait!" and pushed passed the guards, not caring for repercussions.

"Brock, all this time? You've felt this way?" Brian asked, running a hand through his flowing locks. Brock nodded sheepishly.

"Please don't be mad," Brock pleaded. Brian shook his head. He grabbed Brock's hand and pulled him to his feet. He wrapped a strong arm around his waist and pulled him close. All of a sudden he pressed his lips to Brock's soft ones, passionately kissing him. The whooping from the crowd pulled him back to reality. He smiled at Brock.

"You should've told me, I would've done that way sooner." Brock was ushered off the stage and Brian sat down for his interview. He was asked about Brock the entirety of his interview, and was wished the best when the interview drew to a close.

Marcel expressed his fondness for Scotty, and how he will follow him to success, while his district partner Jay wanted to stay by himself. He has no allies and is confident in his own survival abilities.

Lui came out and sat across from Felix.

"Are you the shortest tribute this year?" Felix asked. Lui sighed and nodded, that's not what he wanted to be known for.

"What do you think of Ryan?" Felix asked.

"Not much, but I don't condone what David said earlier this night, it was uncalled for."

Lui stepped off the stage and the final tribute for the night was called. Arlan spoke about his own survival strategies, what he did and did not plan on doing. He explained how he hasn't formed any strong alliances but will stick to Lui if he needs to. 

"Lui's a great kid, he's been a friend for a long time, always there to help out if I need it. I hope he wins, the rest of the competition is foul," Arlan stated. Once Arlan left the stage, Felix stood up in the centre. 

"And that concludes this year's ceremony, we will be looking forward to see which one of these lovely tributes emerges victorious in a week, goodnight Panem!" Felix shouted with grin.

 

***

 

After the ceremony Ryan snuck out of his quarters to invite Bryce for a late night stroll. They walk around their block, no patrol on the tributes that night. They were free to do whatever they liked, as long as they didn't break the law. 

"Are you a cat person Bryce?" Ryan asked. Bryce looked at Ryan through lowered eyelashes. 

"Yes I am, why?" Bryce responded.

"Because I think I just saw a black cat at the end of the alleyway, do you want to go check it out with me?" Ryan asked, dragging Bryce by his wrist, his grip a bit too tight. 

"Isn't that bad luck though?" Bryce asked, hesitant to follow his ally into the dark of the alleyway. 

"Nah it'll be fine, I'm an animal person to." They reached the end of the alleyway, the street was a good twenty metres away and there were no overhead lights. 

"I think we should head back Ryan, there's nothing here. I want to be rested for tomorrow," Bryce argued, trying to push passed Ryan. Ryan grabbed Bryce and pushed him up against the alley wall. Bryce noticed something hard digging into his lower stomach, what did Ryan have in his pocket?

"You don't get away that easily. You don't offer anything of value to the team except your mind, we could really do without you, so you have to make up for it somehow," Ryan threatened. Bryce's heart dropped. What did he want?

"What do you mean?" Bryce asked, shaking a bit. Ryan place a hand on top of Bryce's head and began to push down.

"Get on your knees," Ryan ordered. Bryce gasped and had no other choice but to oblige, he knew what was happening now. The water of the streets seeped into the fabric of his knees, but that cold was a different feeling than knowing what was coming next. 

***

Unbeknown to Evan and Brian, Jon and Brock cried themselves to sleep that night over their respective partners. They didn't want to lose the in the games. All but one had to die.


	10. Chapter Ten - Before The Games Begin

This was it, Brock thought as he woke, this was the end. This in when the games begin. Quite literally, it was the morning of the bloodbath. He shut his eyes again, trying to will away reality by sleeping. His fears were confirmed when Brian burst into his room, adorning the tribute outfits and a short necklace with a black pendant attached to it. His father had given it to him before he left for the Capitol, a family heirloom. 

“Brock, you still aren’t up?” Brian asked, leaning against the doorframe with his hipbones jutting out. Brock shook his head, Brian’s cheery façade melting as he did. 

“I see, I understand. It’s only hours away now, but we need to get going Brock. Sitting in bed won’t prolong it, it will make it feel worse,” Brian tried. Brock nodded, still not saying anything. He swung his legs around the edge of the bed and slowly stood up. Brian walked over to Brock and sat down beside him. He placed a strong hand on Brock’s thigh, raising goosebumps. 

“Hey, whatever happens in there, happens. I just want you to know that I love you, and that we’ll always be together...no matter what happens to us,” Brian sighed, his eyes beginning to water. Brock reached up a delicate finger and wiped away the stray tear.

“Thank you, Brian. There’s only one victor though, so if you die before me, I’m dying too. I can’t live without you,” Brock started crying too. Brian looked like he wanted to slap Brock.

“Shut up, don’t speak like that. If you’re the victor, you have to go on. Not just for your sake, but for mine. When I die - yes, when - you’re the only way I can live on. In your memories. Without you, there’s no trace of me,” Brian replied, hand on Brock’s shoulder. Brock took a shaky breath in, eying Brian. There was no sign of lying on his face. Brian’s lips were quickly on Brock’s, soft and eager. Bittersweet. 

“I can’t do this, Brian,” Brock confessed, eyes screwed shut with his head resting on Brian’s strong chest. Their arms wrapped around each other, too scared to let go. 

“I know Brock, I know,” Brian cooed, rocking Brock slightly, “let’s focus on something else.”

“Like what?” Brock couldn’t get their impending fates off his mind.

“Like our strategy. You know, so we can maximise our time left together,” Brian replied, dancing around the elephant in the room. 

“What is there to plan? We don’t even know where the arena is set,” Brock sighed.

“Find water, regardless of the environment we need to get water as soon as possible. Once we get enough water, we get out of there, because the rest of the tributes will try to get to water as well. After that, we stay alive. Avoid other people as much as possible, we can’t trust anyone except each other,” Brian grabbed Brock’s shoulders, a small gesture that filled Brock with the tiniest ounce of hope.

***

“Craig? Are you even awake yet? Evan and Jon are already heading down to the airfield!” Tyler shouted through the bedroom door. He adjusted the collar on his black jacket after noticing that one side was sticking up. Before even considering to knock, Tyler barged in, prepared to drag Craig out of bed.

He wasn’t ready to see Craig dripping wet with only a towel covering his modesty. 

“Tyler!” Craig shouted, almost dropping his towel in shock. Tyler felt the blood rush to his face, and the blood also rush...southwards? Rivulets of water cascade down Craig’s frame, disappearing into the fabric of the white towel. It was hypnotising, Tyler barely noticed that he was staring at Craig now. Craig shouted his name again.

“Oh shit, Craig. I’m sorry,” Tyler finally responded. He averted his eyes to Craig’s face instead of his sinewy muscle. The shower had plastered his curls to his forehead. “I’ll just...wait for you to be ready out in the lounge.” Tyler hurried out the door. 

The image of an almost naked Craig burned into his head, and he could feel his body reacting to it. But...that can’t be. He wasn’t super close with Craig before the reaping, it was just subtle nods to each other on corridors, and general polite conversation. This is different, he thought as he grabbed a nearby pillow to hide his issue. Is this what some people preached against back in District 3, but are fine with in the Capitol? Homosexuality? Feelings for his close friend. It was all too intense, this had only appeared over the past week and he needed to quit it. They were only hours away from the Games. 

 

Tyler paused. He only had a 1 in 24 chance of winning, so...would this be in last chance to get off? He eyed the pillow on his lap. He could, if he was quick.

It’s not like Craig would ever find out, right?

“Sorry again Tyler, I didn’t think you were awake,” Craig burst out of his room, fully dressed. Tyler inhaled sharply, heart rate spiking. He didn’t expect Craig to come out of no where like that. “Did you say we were meeting Jon and Evan at the airfield?” 

“Uh, yeah. We better leave quickly if we want to be on the same aircraft as them. They only seat half of the tributes in each one, did you know?” Craig shook his head. Tyler threw the pillow back to the couch, definite that he’d calmed down by now. Craig grasped Tyler’s wrist.

“Should we talk about our official strategy?” 

“Yeah, here’s the rundown. Get to high ground. Upstream water is always cleaner than downstream water. Plus, we get the height advantage. I spoke to our mentor, the District 3 tributes are always directly south of the Cornucopia, the centre of the arena. I told Evan and Jon last night that we are going to go North West, at least so we can all meet up out of the blast zone, then we can pick a proper place to go.” Craig nodded, eyebrows cutely furrowed in deep thought.

No, not cute, Tyler can’t have these feelings. It’ll hurt even more if Craig dies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shortened chapter and for the temporary hiatus. I was uncomfortable writing with everything surrounding Craig, but then I got writers block and in combination with my current work load I just couldn't update. In the next chapter is when shit hits the fan, so this was almost a filler chapter. Until next time!


	11. Chapter Eleven - The Bloodbath

Craig was pushed towards the capsule by his mentor, it was finally time. It was too soon, happening too quickly. What if he died straight away? He wanted to at least give the games a proper shot, test his survival skills before dying. 

“Stick to Tyler, Craig. Evan and Jon are good people, but the way Tyler treats you, he won’t let harm come your way,” Diana said, giving him a warm smile. The glass closed around Craig’s shaking form.

“I can’t stop shaking,” Craig whispered. Behind the thick glass, Diana could read lips. 

“Just remember this, play up to the sponsors! They won’t sponsor a shaking boy,” she shouted through the glass. Craig nodded and forced a smile. Something about the psychology of forcing a smile made Craig’s muscles slightly loosen and stop their shaking. 

Craig began to rise in the capsule, his mentor waved at him as she disappeared behind the surrounding black walls. Sunlight shone down through the opening at his capsule.

This.

Was.

It.

Craig rose above the ground, looking around, already analysing the playing field. Everyone else was rising with him, the glass barrier staying underground. A countdown began, the deep voice resonating to his core. On his left was Tyler, around fifteen metres over. Tyler hadn’t spotted Craig yet, he was too busy taking in their environment.

A forest stood tall with distant hills straight ahead of Craig, due north. Craning his neck, Craig saw fields of wheat and other head high, long grasses spanning to the edge of the arena, kilometres away. Those fields only took up a small segment of the arena, the rest was all forest.

Craig finally met Tyler’s eyes. They both locked eyes with Evan and Jon, so all three of them were looking at Tyler. The taller man subtly gestured with his head to the north west, signalling to all meet up deeper in the woods once the bloodbath ended.

The countdown was on ten and Craig was shaking again. Nine, eight, seven. Tyler winked at Craig and shot him a sympathetic smile. Three, two...

The explosion, the cannon, and the automated voice saying “1” all rang out at the same time. Craig‘s head snapped over to the noise and saw that it belonged to the District 2 tribute, Ze. He didn’t have much time to think and ponder before the countdown had finished and everyone was running towards the cornucopia. 

Craig jumped down from his pedestal, slowly stumbling forward with his head where Ze was standing. He tried to cheat, to get a head start. 

“Craig! What are you doing?” Tyler screamed, snapping him out of his stupor. Craig’s head whipped to Tyler’s voice, just in time to witness Tyler slit Cody’s throat and let his body drop to a harsh landing. He flinched, but he was expecting Tyler to do these kinda of things. 

Craig ran passed various people, throwing a hand up to Jon as he passed. A knife flew passed in front of Craig’s face, halting his long enough to see it land in Max’s chest. Craig looked to see the source. Mark, the towering dark man from District 7. Craig kept running, fearing he would be next if he stopped for too long. Littering the outside of the cornucopia were different coloured backpacks. Craig scooped up one of the bigger ones and threw it over his back. The extra cushioning would provide armour for his back while he was running away. Craig also grabbed two hunting knives off a rack of weapons before dashing from the cornucopia. 

Craig reached the edge of the forest, and with one last glance back he disappear into the thick trees. Tyler, Jon, and Evan would meet him soon.

***

Marcel didn’t have time to dawdle as the countdown ended and everyone began running towards the centre. Except Steven Ze, whose remains startled one of the District 3 tributes into a stupor. Marcel wasn’t stunned, he just dashed forward, dodging the instantaneous combat. Knifes whizzing through the air, the clank of metal against each other. A spurt of blood from Max landed on Marcel’s skin. 

Marcel reached the cornucopia, no one else was occupying it yet. He unzipped some of the backpacks to check their content. He decided on grabbing one with water and hunting essentials, then another with explosive materials and a sleeping bag tied to the outside of it. 

Marcel stuck to the edge of the inside walls of the cornucopia and peeked his head around the sides to spot where the rest of his alliance were. He saw Smitty almost dragging John behind him, evident by the death grip Smitty had on the shaking boy’s arm. 

“John! Smitty!” Marcel shouted, making a mad dash to the two men who had halted in their tracks. 

“Marcel! You got some stuff. Where’s Scotty?” Smitty asked, looking around for their missing friend. 

“There!” John pointed, finger trembling not with fear but with adrenaline. Scotty was engaged in a stick fight with Ryan, it was something akin to what Marcel had seen in old foreign papers. The two men were trying to jab each other, while simultaneously blocking one another’s attacks. Even despite the setting it was hypnotising to Marcel. 

Scotty finally landed the brunt of the stick hard into Ryan’s chest, knocking him off his feet and winding him. Scotty backtracked, keeping his eyes on Ryan. He raced back over to the cornucopia to grab more weapons that just a stick. He fished out a sword, a lighter, and a spear. 

“Start running guys! I’ll catch up,” Scotty shouted to his alliance. Marcel nodded to him, and pushed the other two to get them to start running. Marcel looked over to where he just saw the two District 3 tributes disappear into the shrubbery. After them was the District 1 tributes, wielding weapons. Marcel couldn’t remember if they were working together or not, but if they weren’t the District 3’s were toast.

Marcel’s own alliance disappeared into the woods just near a fields of wheat. Looking into the wheat from the side, he could spot various surface entrances to cave systems. There may be underground fresh water springs, Marcel kept that in mind to tell his friends once they found a place to rest. 

Marcel heard more rustling besides their own running. He peered to the right and saw Jay running near them. Marcel huffed and remembered how Jay wanted to be alone so “he didn’t have any attachments when he won”. Smitty went around the left of a fallen tree and crouched behind it. John and Marcel followed, watching Scotty catching up behind them.

“Let’s stay here until everything dies down, then let’s find water and a proper spot,” Smitty suggested. Marcel nodded and began to unzip the backpacks, trying to get the new images of carnage out of his mind.

*** 

Luke looked away as Ze’s podium exploded, he didn’t want to see where his limbs landed. Instead, Luke sprinted towards the centre and tried to grab as many weapons as possible. He had already lost sight of Mark, despite their capsules being right next to each other. 

Once Luke searched through all the weapons racks as quickly as he could, he plucked a few smaller knives and added them to his backpack he grabbed. Next to him he saw a blurred flash of brown and blue grab a spear. He turned and spotted Luke only a metre away, it was the pretty boy from District 1, Jonathan.

Jonathan momentarily froze when he locked eyes with Luke. Luke knew that Jon could kill him right then and there, he has the upper hand. However, Jon gave a nod and ran off, carting his spear with him. He spared Luke. Why? Was he afraid of Luke, or simply wanted more competition later in the game?

Luke watched Jonathan run towards the Anthony that isn’t from District 2 and spear him straight through the chest. An instant kill. That could have been Luke. 

Luke’s head whipped around when he heard Ryan’s shout. He was wielding a scythe, grunting with effort as he slashed into the other Anthony. The thinner man collapsed in a heap on the ground, the cannons for both Anthony’s ringing in Luke’s ears. 

Luke made a move to run to Ryan, but he becomes engaged in a stick battle with Scotty. Luke looked around for Mark, still unable to find him, maybe he’s around the other side of the cornucopia?

Bryce was suddenly by Luke’s side, thin hand pulling at his shoulder. His hair was windswept and there was blood on his boots.

“Come on, Luke, let’s find Mark and get to water. Most of the tributes are starting to leave,” Bryce urged. Luke winced as Scotty winded Ryan and pushed him to the ground. He almost swore he could hear Bryce laugh at that from behind him. It is a bit funny, Luke admitted, Ryan could definitely stand to be knocked down several pegs. 

As Ryan regained his balance, Luke walked around and discovered that the rest of the tributes had left. The only ones that remained were the tributes laying in a pool of their own blood.

“Hey Luke, have you- have you seen Mark? Did he ditch us?” Ryan asked, still out of breath. Luke opened his mouth to confirm Ryan’s suspicions before Bryce spoke up.

“You two, I- I think I found him,” Bryce stammered. He was several metres away and crouched in the grass. Luke could see Mark’s buff frame crumpled on the grass, and the arrow stick out of his neck. 

In the distance, Luke could see another buff man carting a bow. He spotted Jon running by his side, it must be Evan from District 1. Luke felt his body flush red with anger. Then he had an interesting idea.

“I have a plan, why don’t we try and recruit Jon from District 1? Evan killed Mark, he’s got the bow, and not only is Jon skilled but Evan would hate to lose his best friend. Or whatever they are anyways,” Luke suggested. He would have liked Evan in their team too, but now that Mark was gone because of him...he couldn’t forgive that.

“Don’t be ridiculous Luke. We don’t need anyone else, just us three,” Ryan gave a sinister smile. Luke didn’t miss Bryce’s wince.


	12. Chapter Twelve - Surviving The First Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no I haven’t updated in ages, I’ve been flat out these past few months and I’m afraid it won’t slow down until December, so updates won’t be super frequent for any of my works up until then, once my exams are over. Hope you enjoy this chapter :D

Tyler’s legs hurt. He couldn’t comprehend how Craig was that much further into the woods than him. It must be Tyler’s excess weight slowing him down, Craig was smaller than him. His senses were hyper aware, he could hear nearby tributes running in different directions through the foliage. Tyler quickly glanced behind him to check if he was being followed. There were two distance figures weaving in an out of the trees, they must be Evan and Jon judging by each of their respective statures. 

Tyler felt like he’d been running for hours, the excess weight of the supplies he grabbed weighing him down further. He started to feel as though he was running through water or quicksand. After what was actually half an hour of running, Craig stopped up ahead of Tyler. There was a stream running perpendicular to Craig’s path. To the right it was going uphill.

“Tyler, we have water now, and any good survivalist knows you never get water downstream. Wait for Evan and Jon, we have a hill to climb,” Craig stated. Tyler sighed and turned around, Evan and Jon had finally caught up.

It’s not too big of a hill, it was almost a mound instead, with a spring in the middle of it. 

“How do we know that it’s safe to drink and not just a trap from the game makers?” Jon asked. Craig crouched down and dipped his hand into the water. His eyes were watching a nearby rabbit on the other side of the spring. It’s head was dipped low, drinking from the water. Craig was watching to see if there would be any immediate effects on the small creature’s health. After a few minutes of the rabbit hopping around and Jon and Evan setting up a camp next to the spring, Tyler watched as Craig delicately set up a trap using some of the materials from his backpack.

“If the gamemakers had tampered with the water in the arena, then this rabbit would be dead already. It’s body is much smaller and processes water quicker than us,” Craig explained, looking over his shoulder and meeting Tyler’s gaze. The rabbit hopped into the trap and got stuck. Tyler couldn’t understand how Craig’s traps worked when they were training, and he still doesn’t understand.

Tyler’s head snapped away from Craig’s form when there was a splash from the pond. He watched as a multitude of colours glided beneath the surface.

“Craig, there’s fish in this pond. Once you take care of that rabbit, you could teach me how to make traps like yours? I think we all grabbed enough supplies, and it’s just... I never got the hang of it and yours are really great,” Tyler asked. Craig looked back at Tyler, crouched by the rabbit’s carcass. Was Tyler starting to blush? 

“Hey, Jon and I are going to go clear the area. You know, check to see if there are any nearby tributes and... take care of them,” Evan spoke up. Jon grabbed two knives while Evan carted the bow and arrows he grabbed earlier. 

And suddenly, Tyler was alone with Craig pressed up against his side, their hands wet as the smaller man taught the larger one how to make traps.

*** 

After running for miles and miles, Lui’s legs were finally starting to hurt. That was one of his strengths, Lui thought, he could outrun anyone in the competition. He was light and agile, he could probably dodge anything throw at him. Running huge distances didn’t tire him out much either, there wasn’t much excess weight dragging him down. That’s expected when you come from a starving district.

The trees began to thin out as Lui approached a clearing. There was a huge lake, crystal clear and surrounded by moss-covered rocks. Lui sighed in relief and double over to catch his breath. He momentarily froze and looked back to see if anyone was following behind him. He’d survived the cornucopia, he didn’t want to die straight afterwards. He didn’t want to die at all.

Once Lui’s body stopped convulsing with huge breaths, he took a proper look at the lake. There was a rocky mound on the other side of the lake, and what looked like the mouth of a cave in the mound. That could be a great place to camp, Lui thought, shelter from the elements and it’s situated right next to a freshwater lake too. Lui quickly fishes an empty flask from the tiny survival kit he snatched and filled it with water from the lake. He walked around the circumference of the lake to the mouth of the cave.

Lui began to walk into the cave, and after about a metre the cave went pitch black. He lit a match and almost dropped it in shock when he saw a huge spear right in front of him. He looked beyond the spear to the person wielding it. It was the lanky one from District 4, David Nogla. Lui relaxed a bit, he was hoping to find Nogla in the arena and make an alliance with him.

“Lui from District 12?” The deep voice asked. Lui nodded slowly, not taking his eyes off the man in case he changed his mind and decided to spear Lui for a meal. Ew, Lui hoped he wouldn’t have to turn to cannibalism for the competition. 

David lowered his spear slowly, keeping his smokey gaze locked with Lui’s. He put the spear on the ground of the cave, by a backpack that he managed to grab, never breaking eye contact. David stood back up straight again, towering over Lui, and wrapped his arms around the smaller man. Lui was taken aback for a moment, before returning the hug, enjoying the sudden warmth from the friendly giant. David buried his face in Lui’s neck and inhaled deeply, before letting out a strained sigh.

“I’m so glad to see you in one piece, Calibre,” David chuckled despite the implications. Both of them are lucky to be alive, and in the next several days at least one of them has to die.

Lui doesn’t want to have to make that decision, him or David to survive.

***

“Hey Jon.”

“Yeah Evan?” Jon’s sweet voice replied. Evan almost forgot what he was going to say, lost in the timbre of Jon’s voice.

“Can you hear that?” The two men had stopped walking by now, but footsteps continued. They were faint, but they were definitely ahead. Evan looked back behind him, seeing how far away they were from Tyler and Craig. Depending on the tribute, or even tributes, they might need back up.

Evan looked over to Jon to spot his response, a small confirmative nod. Before Evan could make his way to Jon to construct a plan, there was a thud from the direction of the footsteps. The person had collapsed, Evan concluded. He quickly snuck over to his smaller district partner.

“I have an idea, do you have any matches?” Evan asked him. He had a small bottle of oil in his back pocket, he put it there once the four settled down at their campsite. Evan had pretty good instinct, and he just felt like he needed it with him.

“Yeah, how come?” Jon asked, arching an eyebrow. Evan pondered on his decision. It was going to be quite gruesome, but his mentor had said that the more creative the murder, the more likely he was to impress the sponsors so they would send him gifts. Jon’s eyes suddenly shot open.

“Evan! Surely you aren’t going to...set him alight?” Jon gasped. Evan eyed him curiously. The duo started to move forward towards where the thud sounded from.

“Jon, we haven’t heard a cannon go off since the bloodbath, we have an opportunity to keep the competition so I think we should take it,” Evan leaned in for the next part and whispered so no lurking microphones could pick his voice up, “besides, remember when our mentor said that sponsors love creative deaths? This changes it up from the usual stabbing or skewering.” 

Jon eyed Evan up and down, something Evan didn’t miss. Why was he looking at him like that? 

“Ok, lets make this quick then.” The two snuck to where the thud was. There was a figure slumped on the ground against the other side of a tree trunk. Evan approached him from the left while Jon went from the right. Evan identified him as Jay from District 11, he was almost unconscious from exhaustion. Jon tossed Evan the box of matches over their victim’s head. Jay was so out of it that he didn’t realise the two guys standing on either side of him until Evan doused him with oil.

Evan jumped when Jay sat upright from the shock of the cool fluid. 

“Quick Evan!” Jon pleaded. Evan snatched a match out of the box, lit it, and dropped it on the unfortunate tribute. He raced around the other side of the tree and pulled Jon back by his wrist, who was transfixed by the flames. Jay’s screams echoed throughout the forest, they needed to get away from there or it will attract the other tribute’s attentions.

After running back to the camp, the cannon sounded. Tyler’s head whipped up in tome to see the arrival of the District 1 tributes.

“What happened? Was that you two? We heard someone screaming,” Craig asked, emerging from the other side of a tree. Evan nodded and opened his mouth to answer, but a jingling noise stopped him. It was coming from above.

There it was, a silver wrapped sponsor drifting down to the fortunate alliance. Evan grabbed it from the air and burst it open, but he didn’t know what the contraption was. Craig gasped when he saw it, and he snatched it from Evan.

“It’s a water filter! That means that we can drink from virtually any water source in the arena,” the ginger man smiled up at Tyler, and Evan and Jon both felt as though they missed something when they were gone.


	13. Chapter Thirteen - Exit Light, Enter Night

Craig was happy that his experimental traps had been a success. There was quite a lot of fauna in this arena, or maybe there were a lot of animals around because they set up camp right next to a flowing stream. Over the passing hours of the first day, he caught two rabbits, which were now on a makeshift spit roast over their small campfire. While Evan and Jon were out, he had also taught Tyler how to catch fish out of the stream, so there was also two fish to share around.

The evening made the campfire the brightest object around the four tributes, illuminating their faces as they ate the prey Craig caught. As Craig was turning the skewered and skinned rabbit over the fire, he felt a strange sensation on his shoulder. He turned his head a bit and saw a mangled, clawed paw scraping along his jacket. Craig let out a shriek as his blood went cold and he curled into a ball. What WAS that on his shoulder? 

Suddenly, Tyler on his other side started cackling with wicked laughter. Craig slowly eased his arms away from over his head and eyed his companion, why was he laughing? Tyler drew his arm back around from the other side of Craig and revealed the disembodied rabbit claw. He dangled it in front of Craig’s face, laughing as the smaller man’s face screwed up.

“Not scared of a rabbit’s paw, are you Craig? You shrieked like a banshee!” Tyler got out before collapsing into another fit of laughter, this time Evan and Jon joined in. Craig shoved him, but ended up rocking himself more than his tormentor. 

“You’re such an asshole, you know that?” Craig mocked. He snatched the paw from Tyler’s hand and threw it back to him so it smacked him in the face. Tyler picked it up to throw it back but a loud noise echoed out over the arena. A fanfare of horns and bright lights above drew the alliance’s attention to the sky. That’s what it was, Craig thought as a face flashed in the sky, it was the ceremony for the fallen tributes. 

Craig recognised each name and face as they flashed in the sky:

“Steven Ze - District 2”

“Cody Racing - District 8”

“Max Gassy - District 8”

“Anthony Panda - District 9”

“Anthony Chilled - District 2”

“Mark Johnson - District 7”

“Jay Blue - District 11”

The districts were all out of order, so Craig figured that the game makers are showing tributes in the order they were killed. 

“Hey, wasn’t Steven the one that jumped off the podium early? Do you think it was intentional?” Evan asked.

“Yeah that was him, kind of a dumb move don’t you think? I don’t think it was intentional though. If anything, I thought Cody was going to be the one to step off early, especially after what he was saying during his interview,” Jon replied. After finishing his sentence, Jon rested his head on Evan’s shoulder. Craig watched Evan’s face for signs of emotion, but Evan reacted as though Jonathan’s movements were perfectly normal. Evan even leaned into Jon’s contact, resting his head upon his district partners. Craig eyed Tyler, not only to gauge his reaction, but to wonder what it would be like if it were those two cuddling instead.

 

***

Marcel wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his right hand. The four of them in the alliance: Marcel, Scotty, Smitty, and Kryoz, the latter two quickly growing accustomed to their new nicknames, had finally finished their gruelling work setting up a temporary shelter. If there was anything Marcel knew, it was that besides water, shelter was the best thing to acquire to survive in the elements. The four boys slumped in their shelter made of fallen branches and leaves, exhausted from their work with no food or drink to replenish themselves.

“Smitty, are you sure we actually have no food? Did you check every inch and pocket of every bag we grabbed?” Scotty asked, eyeing the paler boy suspiciously. Smitty nodded in response.

“I’m dead sure, Scot, the only thing we had was a single flask of water and we already used that. We’ll need to a fresh water source quickly or we won’t stand a chance,” Smitty explained, head sinking with the grim connotations. Marcel’s stomach flipped with the nerves that shot up his spine. Only one of them here could potentially survive. 

“I’m going to recheck all the bags myself this time, we need to come up with a plan to get basic fucking necessities,” Scotty frowned. He lunged forward to the two backpacks Marcel grabbed earlier that day. The weapons and medicine Scotty had were laying to the side. As Scotty rifled through the bags he pulled the contents out, creating a pile of seemingly random junk to Marcel. 

“Wires? Gunpowder? There’s nothing we can do with this junk-“ Marcel started.

“Hold on.” Kryoz surged forward to grab the miscellaneous items. Marcel could practically hear the cogs turning in his head as he tried to fit the bits of junk together. “I think I have a plan.” 

There was silence after Kryoz said this, minus the clanging of the metal together. 

“Well don’t just leave us hanging, what do you have in mind?” Scotty pestered, eyeing the skittish man. Kryoz looked up with a strange level of confidence Marcel had never seen in his eyes before.

“Those boys are surrounding the cornucopia, are they not? I didn’t see them making any attempt to leave the place. They’re also stockpiling heaps of food that they could never finish in a week,” Kryoz started, looking around the circle and meeting each of the boys’ awestruck gazes, “it just so happens that we have all the materials to build a decent sized bomb.”

Marcel gasped before clearing his throat to cover the noise of surprise. Smitty did the same, and Scotty nodded in approval.

“And how do you know this will work?” Scotty asked. Kryoz let out a bark of laughter at his friend’s skepticism.

“Please, Scotty, I’m from District 5. I think I know what I’m doing, I’ve worked with electricity my entire life. Just let me prove it to you all tomorrow when we have three dead tributes due to my bomb.” Kryoz grinned at his alliance, and Marcel felt a chill up his spine at the foreboding words.

*** 

Brock watched down at Brian with glee as the man struggled to scale the tree. Brock suggested the pair slept up a tree and tied themselves to the branches to protect themselves from ground-dwelling predators. Brian initially agreed, but instantly regretted his decision when he discovered he could barely get a metre from the ground. Brock found it way too amusing watching his boyfriend sliding down the trunk, failing to catch any friction on the tree.

“Brock, stop laughing at me and help, you bastard!” Brian shouted up at him. This only made Brock laugh harder. He only stopped when he realised that his loud laughter could alert surrounding tributes of the duo’s presence and location. Brock quickly whipped his head up from the beautiful man metres below him and scouted the surrounding area to see if there was anyone lurking nearby. It seemed like no one was in the vicinity.

“Brock I’m doing it! Grab my hand so I don’t fall back down!” Brian shouted, regaining Brock’s attention. Brock bit back a mocking comment that could make Brian lose his focus and fall back down the tree, losing their current progress, and he instead reached out a hand while using the other one to keep his balance on the branch. After many grunts of effort from Brian, he hoisted himself up onto an adjacent branch, the same height from the ground as Brock’s.

Once Brian was firmly straddling the branch, he rested his forehead against the trunk and bear hugged the tree, fearing he’d just fall back down again.

“Love, you don’t need to hug the tree so viciously. I’ll tie you in, you’re safe when I’m here,” Brock soothed his lover. He leaned over and began tying rope around the branch and Brian’s legs, tight enough to keep him in place but loose enough to keep his blood circulating in his legs. Brian took in a ragged breath, Brock could sense his fear.

“You won’t fall, I’ll make sure of it.”

“No, Brock it’s not that,” Brian stopped to take another shaky breath, “do you remember, it was years ago, when that one couple fell in love in the arena and they both survived together? We both weren’t born to witness it, and I don’t know if it’s just a legend or actual fact, but my parents used to tell me about them all the time.” Brock froze, taking in Brian’s message. 

He remembered that tale, he really thought it was just a myth, but he was brainwashed to think that by the peacekeepers in his district. The elders in his district treated the story as gospel, and swore they witnessed that particular year, and the hope they all felt when two people became victors. Brock also remembered the part of the story where the Capitol was briefly overruled and there were no games for a while, until all of the traitors where executed and the games continued.

“Yeah I do know that story, would be pretty amazing if it was true. Why did you bring it up?” Brock questioned. Brian met his eyes, and Brock could feel himself slowly drowning in their icy colour.

“Do you think we could do that?” Brain asked, hope gleaming in his eyes, but also masking something darker, like doubt.

“We’ll just have to wait and see Brian, I hope so because I know I could never live without you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew I know it’s been ages since I uploaded anything, and I’m really sorry. School has finished so I should be uploading heaps more in the coming weeks. I’m halfway through this book now, and I only have one more chapter to go for Superheroes, then I’ll focus more on Vivifica. I don’t think I’ll be releasing anymore works for the BBS after this one and Superheroes unless there’s a huge inspiration hit for me, as I feel like I’m drifting out of the fandom a bit. But we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed please :D


	14. Chapter Fourteen - Of Monsters And Men

The blinding sun brought Jon slowly out of his sleepy reverie. It was dawn, that means he had work to do if he wanted to survive. As Jon became more conscious and aware of his surroundings, he realised he had been sleeping on something that was moving, rising and falling in a slow rhythm. He put his hands on either side of the surface and pushed himself up to find a still asleep Evan. His face was relaxed as he slept, he looked peaceful yet he still held his own brand of elegance. How did he manage to fall asleep on Evan’s chest?

“Good morning,” Craig’s voice startled Jon from his thoughts. Jon pushed himself off of Evan and sat next to the man from District 3. 

“You looked cozy, so I didn’t disturb you. Did you enjoy your perv sesh just then?” Craig asked and left Jonathan reeling from the lewd words falling from his mouth. 

Jon couldn’t help the deep blush that covered his face as he fumbled for an explanation, “I wasn’t ogling him, I was just-“, he trailed off when he realised that’s exactly what he was doing.

“Sure, Jon, whatever you want to believe,” Craig laughed before he continued, “do you want to help set up some traps around here?”

Jon nodded in response, standing up and grabbing Craig’s hand to help him to his feet. Jon briefly wondered whether he should wake Evan or Tyler so they could be alert in case anyone raided their camp, but when Jon took another look at Evan’s ethereal, peaceful face, he decided to let him sleep. Who knows how today will go, it could be in last chance. 

“Grab two of those knives over there, Jon. I can’t sever the ropes with just my hands yet,” Craig said, gesturing to their pile of belongings. Once Jon grabbed the knives, the duo set off into the untracked land. 

They had only been walking for several minutes before Craig shot out a limb over Jon’s torso, stopping them both in their tracks. Craig turned to face Jon and placed a finger over his mouth, telling him to be quiet. Craig then flicked his head in the direction of a tribute. 

Jon almost shot back in shock, he hadn’t even seen the other man there, and may have been ambushed if he wasn’t careful. If Jon’s memory served him right, it was Arlan from District 12. He looked as though he was trying to climb the thick tree a few metres away, key word being ‘trying’. 

Craig sliced a finger across his neck, pointed to Arlan, then pointed back to Jon. Craig didn’t want to kill anyone if possible, so that only left Jon. He crept up behind the unsuspected victim, hand on the blade of the knife situated on his belt. Once Jon was standing right behind Arlan he drew his knife.

The sharp, metallic sound rung out in the air and Arlan whipped around to face Jon. He opened his mouth to scream for help but Jon was too quick. He sliced his throat in one clean movement and Arlan was cold on the ground in seconds. Jon replaced his knife on his belt and rejoined Craig as the cannon sounded.

***

Scotty was shocked out of his daydream by the explosive ringing of the cannon. No subsequent cannons followed, but he couldn’t help it as his heart dropped at the thought of something happening to the boys in his alliance. Scotty turned on his heel and ran back to their campsite, completely abandoning his mission as the watchman. 

What if someone had found their camp and was pegging them off one by one?

What if one of them turned against the other two?

No, Scotty tried to banish the thoughts from his mind, although the second one seemed to linger a bit longer. The only person that would be capable of that would be Kryoz. Scotty just thought that there was something off about him, that he was not to be trusted. 

Scotty felt the weights on his chest lift once he discovered all three of his allies were crouched over the bomb supplies. 

“Hey Scotty, good to see it wasn’t your cannon that went off,” Smitty chuckled, fiddling with the mass of wires. They had made quite a lot of progress since the last time Scotty was at the camp, they had a lo-fi bomb now and were just trying to slot together the last of the wires.

“Yeah, it feels good too. Almost done with the bomb?” Scotty questioned. Kryoz nodded, not taking his eyes off the contraption. 

“Yeah man, you can do back to looking out for us now, we’ll let you know when it’s done,” Kryoz replied, shooing Scotty away with his hand. Scotty almost flinched at the boy’s cold and flippant behaviour. Marcel must’ve picked up on this too as he shot Scotty a remorseful side glance. 

Feeling offended, Scotty turned around and returned to his post about 100 metres away. He let himself return to his reverie for a few minutes, there had been no signs of tributes around them the entire day. It was only several minutes later before he heard a sequence of words that turned his blood cold. 

“No Kryoz! That’s the wrong fucking fuse, stop or you’ll kill us all!” It sounded like Marcel shouting, but Scotty barely had time to process the meaning of the words before a huge shockwave went through his body. Scotty fell on his front, pushed by some invisible force. The ringing in his ears blocked out every other noise as waves of shock and pain radiated through his body. 

As Scotty’s hearing recovered, the boom of two cannons rung through his chest. As the minutes ticked by the ringing subsided and Scotty tried to stand up. He swayed on his feet too much and fell backwards, whacking his head on the forest floor. He stood up again, rubbing the back of his head, and turned around. 

Smaller trees had been blasted backwards, and there were a few small patches of fire surrounding the area. Scotty made his way back to the camp, stopping every few steps to keep his nausea down. As he got closer a disturbing smell filled his nostrils, and Scotty didn’t want to think about what caused it. 

He reached the camp and discovered the gruesome arrangements of his friends corpses. Scotty tried to keep his logic in check, it was too late for them so he tried to gather as many supplies as possible. That was, until he heard a bone chilling whisper.

“S-Scott...” Marcel’s voice was barely audible, but he was still alive. Barely. He was...a mess, to put it lightly. Scotty didn’t say anything, instead he stayed by Marcel’s side and held his bloodied hand for a minute until his eyes slipped shut and a third cannon sounded. 

Blades moving through the air sounded in the distance, Scotty had to keep moving.

***

Bryce kicked a pebble and huffed, this day had been a total fucking bore. Ryan let Luke out with him to try and find other tributes, but Bryce was made to sit put and watch the camp. Of course Bryce didn’t have to do this though, he could rebel, but that means his head would be removed from his shoulders. Not before having a foreign object shoved down his throat again.

Bryce tried to keep his nerves down as he remembered back to the night of the interviews. He never thought someone his age would be capable of something so evil. 

‘Slow breaths. Count, Bryce. 1, 2, 3...’ Bryce continued his inner mantra until he felt the telltale signs of stress subside, as far as stress could subside given the current situation. Four cannons had already gone off today, and from the position of the sun it was barely past noon. Anything could’ve happened, two of the cannons could’ve been for Ryan and Luke, and two or three probably had something to do with the faint explosion he heard coming from deep within the forest. 

He tried to listen to the hopeful half of his mind telling him that one of the cannons was for Ryan. That would be perfect. He slipped into that fantasy for a while until he saw two outlines steeping out from the shrubbery. Ryan and Luke had returned unscathed. Ryan was carting a dead deer and Luke was holding various weapons and ropes, most likely they were used to catch the creature.

“Get up to much while we were out, Brycey?” Ryan cooed. Bryce shook his head and eyed the pebble he kicked only minutes before.

“Look at me when I’m taking to you!” Bryce’s head snapped up at the rough voice. “That’s more like it. Luke, stay with Bryce and set up a fire with a rotisserie while I prepare the venison.” 

With those instructions, Ryan dragged the deer and disappeared around the back of the cornucopia. Luke sat down on the log, next to Bryce. All his physical tension melted out of him as he let out a deep sigh.

“No wonder you don’t like him, Bryce. That was exhausting,” Luke whispered. Bryce sat up straighter at those words, was his hatred that obvious?

“I don’t- I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Fuck, he’d see right through that. Luke raised a bushy eyebrow.

“Come on dude, no one in this entire arena likes him except himself. Sure, he was alright to begin with, but I just feel like a pawn in his game. Not to mention the way he treats you, he treats you like a toy, Bryce. It’s sick,” Luke vented, wringing his hands together.

“He’s...evil,” is all Bryce managed to utter out. He hated this shell he’s become, and there’s nothing he can do about it. It doesn’t help when there’s a creeping sensation that he won’t make it out alive. 

Luke must’ve seen Bryce’s distress because he placed a large, gentle hand on his shoulder and comforted him.

“Don’t worry about him. When it’s just us three left, we’ll gang up and kill him, then we’ll figure out where to go from there.” Luke words and soothing hands numbed the pain in his gut for a few blissful minutes, but he knew that bliss would flee when Ryan came back. He just had to wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, please leave kudos and a comment if you did!


	15. Chapter Fifteen - The Night Comes Down

“Lui, please don’t get lost. If you can’t find your way back to me, then how will I be able to find someone else who waits on me hand and foot?” The sun had set from the sky and Lui threw a stick at David’s head. This only made David laugh harder at the smaller man’s feigned anger. 

“Shut up you asshole, I’ll be back as soon as I can be, I just need to find us some water,” Lui tried to be angry at David, but they were only joking around with each other. With those words, Lui hugged David and set off from their cave to find a water source. 

Lui thought back to what occurred only minutes before, David’s teasing nature and Lui throwing a stick. He smiled fondly, he’d barely been away from him for ten minutes before he found himself missing his companion. In any other circumstances, Lui felt their camaraderie would have strengthened throughout their lives, and potentially could have flowered into something more. 

Lui forced his mind away from that topic, he couldn’t dwell on his emerging feelings when it was bound to end badly. Exhibit A: Brian and Brock from District 10. Textbook definition of star crossed lovers, and Lui didn’t want his and David’s names to be associated with that term. 

Lui was stuck in his thoughts for what felt like half an hour until he reached a slow flowing stream. It was so slow that the water was almost stagnant, a faint odour rose up off the green water. If there was anything Lui remembered when it came to survival, the number one rule was to follow water upstream to where it will be fresher. He started to climb up the hill, it was more of a slope than anything. 

After hiking for several minutes he reached the top and his stomach dropped. There was a camp here with a campfire still burning. Various weapons and tools lay around the fire, including knives, ropes, and flasks. Lui zoned in on the flasks, they could be filled with fresh water, he could take two. He swivelled his head quickly, looking for other signs of life and movement. When everything looked clear, Lui bolted to grab two of the plastic flasks. He unscrewed the cap off the first one when he felt that it was empty and plunged it into the flowing water. As he was halfway through filling the second one he heard a deep voice shout, and Lui’s stomach dropped for a second time.

“Hey, you! What do you think you’re doing?” It was the bigger man from District 3, Tyler, and he was stalking towards Lui at a terrifying pace. Three other men stood back and watched the ordeal unfold. Lui dropped the half filled container but kept the full one with him, got up, and started sprinting away. One vial of water was better than none, right? 

Lui barely got halfway down the hill before Tyler tackled him and pinned him to the ground. Lui threw the flask at his head, trying to knock him out, but it backfired when Tyler swatted it aside and started pummelling Lui with his fists. Lui howled as searing pain and heat was showered down upon his small frame. He started to wriggle underneath Tyler, trying to free himself, and eventually his right arm slipped free. He swung a fist at Tyler’s jaw and it landed harshly. It was Tyler’s turn to wince back in pain, and Lui seized the chance to run for freedom. 

He didn’t make it very far, black spots were clouding his vision and his entire body ached, but he just kept limping on.

“Hey! Get back here!” Tyler shouted from behind him somewhere, he couldn’t tell anymore. Then, there was a blinding pain right in his temple, probably Tyler’s fist again. Lui was too disorientated to stand up anymore, so he collapsed to the side. An even worse pain collided with his other temple, he landed on something sharp. Was it a rock? Lui tried to not let the black spots cloud his vision, but soon he succumbed to their darkness.

***

David’s eyes snapped open when something landed on his forehead. It crawled down the side of his face and he frantically swatted at it, trying to get the creeping sensation away. He watched as the critter, a moth, flew away from him and outside of the cave into the dark sky. 

David dragged himself up into a sitting position. His neck and back screamed in agony, falling asleep on a cave floor probably wasn’t the wisest decision. 

“Lui?” He called out. When he didn’t get an answer, he made his way to the entrance of the cave and looked out. Lui left to find water when the sun was halfway down the sky. Now, the sun was just about to sink below the horizon. He only left for water, Lui should definitely be back by now. 

He couldn’t help the pang of fear that ran through him. He didn’t even notice that he fell asleep as soon as Lui left, maybe a cannon went off and David didn’t know. The sun sank below the skyline and the fanfare for the tribute deaths began.

David thought back to the last words Lui said to him, “I’ll be back soon”. David broke out a nervous sweat, he felt like he was going to throw up. If he saw Lui’s name in the sky tonight, he was done for. He couldn’t survive without Lui, if no one else finished him off then he’d die by his own hand.

Alternatively, if he didn’t see Lui’s name in the sky, he was probably going to break down anyways. He’d be lost, or he could’ve been captured by other tributes. Who knows what he was going through right now.

David’s blood ran cold as another possibility ran through his mind. Lui could’ve left him alone on purpose. Maybe he didn’t want to tell the taller man to his face that he didn’t want to be around him anymore, so he decided to come up with an excuse and ran. 

The frantic thoughts running through his mind were cut short when the tributes’ faces started to flash in the sky.

“Arlan Droid - District 12”

“John Kryoz - District 5”

“Ryan Smitty - District 6”

“Marcel Work - District 11”

David let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He remembered hearing the explosion go off, and the three cannons that followed. He also remembered how the last three boys were really close in training, plus another one that must’ve survived. Those were the last three cannons he remembered going off as well. He let himself get too happy, Lui was alive! 

Then Marcel’s face in the sky morphed into one that was all too familiar and David felt his stomach drop.

“Lui Calibre - District 12”

David swayed on his feet. His vision blackened as anxiety clouded his mind. Lui...he couldn’t be. He died? And David wasn’t there to stop it from happening. He felt the deep grip of self hate coil around him, constricting his breathing. 

All he could do was fall to his knees and sob.

***

Scotty knew better than to look in the sky that night. Seeing Smitty, Marcel, and Kryoz’s faces one last time would have pushed him over the edge. No, he wouldn’t dwell on them anymore. They were good friends while it lasted, but he needed to focus on his own survival now.

As Scotty reached the edge of the forest and approached a paddock with nothing but tall grass as far as the eye could see, he pondered the men again. There was a nugget of bitter resentment towards Kryoz now. It was kind of his fault that the bomb exploded prematurely, taking his alliance with it. Well, Kryoz also had some good qualities. He was funny, and that was all that seemed to come to mind for Scotty.

The backpack was getting heavier with every step, and Scotty knew that he would need to find a place to crash for the night. The tall grass could give him enough coverage, plus he didn’t think there would be any other tributes hiding in the grass.

Scotty was so deep in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the metre long drop into a cave entrance until he fell into it. He managed to keep his balance and not smack his head on the stone, but the most alarming thing was the orange light from further in the cave.

And the figure hunched over it. 

Scotty didn’t even know underground caves were part of the arenas, but that wasn’t the most important issue at hand. The figure over the fire stood up and ran towards Scotty.

“Hey!” The deep voice shouted. The man had an arm raised like he was going to throw a spear. 

“Hey! Woah, woah, woah,” Scotty threw up his arms and stepped back into the moonlight, the man following. In the light he was identifiable, Adam from District 6.

“Adam?” Scotty asked, keeping his arms up between the two. He hesitated before lowering his spear at his name.

“You’re Scotty, right?” Adam asked, deciding to trust Scotty. He nodded slowly, fast moves could provoke the man.

“Yeah man. I’m sorry I came across your cave, I swear I wasn’t looking for you, or anyone else for that matter,” Scotty explained. He still felt the grip of tiredness in his bones, and he was very aware that Adam could snap and kill him at any moment. 

“Listen man, I have a proposal. It’s been a long, rough day. I lost my only friends all at once and right now I want nothing more than to sleep. I’m too tired to kill you, and I’m too tired to die. Can we call it a truce for tonight?” Scotty asked. Adam’s wary expression changed to one of pity. Then he passed his spear over to Scotty.

“Take this. I agree to your terms, think of the spear as a token of appreciation. Besides, I have another spear in the cave,” Adam smiled gently up at Scotty. Scotty hesitated before he took the spear into his grasp. 

Scotty backed away and climbed back out of the cave. Adam raised his palm to Scotty as he backed into the depths of the cave. 

And Scotty continued on into the night, tracking through the long grass until he couldn’t carry on any longer. He collapsed amidst the grass and hoped it would give him enough coverage until the morning light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey yall, this chapter is a little bit later than I promised, but I still got it up in 2018, so I’m happy. The competition is getting slimmer, I want to hear your predictions on whos going to win, comment below ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a kudos and a comment if you enjoyed, I love hearing from you all!!


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